


Indulgence

by SocksAreArgyle



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi, Past Sexual Assault, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocksAreArgyle/pseuds/SocksAreArgyle
Summary: Will moves to Las Vegas for the scenery, and to get over past grief, only to find himself under a momentary spotlight with the police and crime lab.~~~This is literally just my daydream for inserting myself into the CSI universe, because I've been rewatching it again and loving it.   Maybe somebody will like it though :p  I just wanna stick it here so I have easy access to it and can see how much I write about it lolNot sure when exactly this takes place, but Will's first time in Vegas happens before Sara arrives there, so I'm ballparking this overall taking place somewhere around season 6 or 7.





	1. Chapter 1

“Sir.  Sir? Hey, buddy-”

Will was caught off guard by the detective trying to grab his attention again.  He’d started to space out, and he tried to blame it on the heat, but he knew it wasn’t just because of the glare of the sun beating down on them in the desert.  It was a hot summer, he noted absently, even when it was this early in the morning.

“You said you came out here to do some landscape painting, and you found the girl under that bush?” the detective -- Brass, was it? -- asked again, turning to point in the general direction of where the girl had been.

“Yeah, yeah, and… and she was tied up around her wrists and ankles-”

“Which you cut off with…?”

“With my X-Acto knife,” he explained, glancing over at the police officer who’d taken it from him earlier.  For analysis, he’d said.

“Right,” detective Brass sighed, jotting that down on his notepad before glancing back up at Will, drawing the young man’s attention once more.  “And the uh, the other girl… where did you find her again?”

Will tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.  He glanced over the detective’s shoulder to where the other officers were setting a perimeter of yellow police tape, tying it to sticks and rods they’d apparently brought with them in one of the cabs.

“Just, uh, a few yards past the first girl.  I… I noticed the smell, thought it was maybe the girl I’d found first, maybe she hadn’t bathed in a while, or… or something,” he said, glancing down at the detective’s suit, brow furrowed, “But it was… it wasn’t… her.  Um-” Will tried to continue, voice beginning to shake as he took in a deep breath. “Do you think I could get some of my water?” he asked, gripping at the hem of his shirt as he looked the detective in the face once more.

“Oh, well, you said you gave the girl your water, correct?” Brass asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah… yeah…” Will said, brow furrowing once more, beginning to frown, “I can’t have any of it?”

He kind of understood it in the sense that he didn’t want to contract anything the girl might have, disease-wise.  But he could always just not let his mouth touch the rim, right?

“Unfortunately, since she drank out of it, we have to keep it as is.  Evidence could be on it. But, uh, I’m sure we have some water in one of our cabs you can have, right?  Hey, do we-?” he started to ask one of the officers nearby, who nodded his head.

“Sure thing, I think I got some,” the officer said, turning to head to one of the cop cars and returning with a lukewarm bottle of water.

“Thanks,” Will said with a smile, truly grateful.  Warm water was better than no water. The officer -- Mitchell was on his nametag -- smiled and nodded his head before returning to help the fellow officer with the police tape.

Will took a long sip of the water, downing a good third of it in one go, before capping it again.  Brass let him compose himself for a moment, before tapping at his notepad lightly and continuing with his questions.

“So, you smelled the body first, then walked over and found it half buried?”

“Yeah, but it, uh, looked like it hadn’t been purposefully buried, y’know?  Just like she’d been laying there and the wind had stirred stuff up to start and cover her,” Will said, gripping the water bottle a little tighter now.

He’d just wanted to come out and do some paintings, or at least some sketches.  He’d been living in Las Vegas for about half a year now, mostly because the desert landscapes were something he’d never been close to any other time in his life.  It really was beautiful, and he’d been doing some small studies here and there, getting a feel for the mountains in the distance and the different tones the sand and stone gathered depending on the time of day.  

This morning, he’d decided to go out farther in the desert than he ever had before.  He’d parked his car right off Blue Diamond Road, just before the Calico Basin, and wandered a little ways into the desert to get a good view of the mountains that offered up an interesting composition.  He’d figured he’d maybe come across some animals, maybe a dead coyote or rabbit, but… he never thought in his mind that he’d come across a live, bound human on the brink of dehydration, and then another, significantly more dead human, a few yards away.  The desert seemed to have really dried her out, but the smell of her decomposition still lingered. 

Will really needed to take a shower, or five, when he got home.  Whenever that would be.

“Did you touch the body in any way?” Brass asked, dragging Will out of his haze.

“I, um, I don’t think so,” he murmured as he tried to think back to if he really had or not, “I think I moved some shrubs out of the way, but as soon as I saw her face, I backed up.”

Brass nodded his head, noting this on his notepad before pocketing it and letting out a sigh, but when he opened up his mouth to speak again, Will interrupted him.

“Is she gonna be okay?  The other girl?” he asked, worry filling his voice.

Brass let out another sigh through his nose, and gave a small shrug.  “When I talked to the paramedics, they said she seemed to be alright aside from the dehydration and possibly some physical assault.  At first glance, it doesn’t appear as though she has any life threatening injuries, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Is there any way I can find out if she’ll be alright?” Will pressed, hoping he helped her in some way.

Brass gave him what Will assumed was a small smile, before reaching in his pocket again.  “Listen, give me a call anytime and I can let you know what’s going on when we find out,” he said, voice growing softer as he handed Will his business card.

Will looked at the card, glancing over the phone numbers, before looking back up at the detective.  “Thank you,” he said with a small smile in return, shoving it in his own pants pocket before turning to look back toward the road, hearing another car approaching across the desert.  It was a black SUV, and once the dust settled, two people got out, both with silver briefcases and sporting police vests and baseball caps.

One of them -- a man -- raised his hand up in a wave, and Brass started to head over to them.  Will stayed put, watching the three people interact for a while, catching a few snippets of the information he’d just shared with the detective.  Turning back to watch the officers finish up with the police tape, Will took another sip of the water and tried to focus on the crinkle the plastic bottle made in his hand rather than the anxiety eating at his stomach.

He realized then that his hands were shaking, and he let out a little breathless chuckle as he gripped the bottle tighter and pressed it more firmly into his lap to make them still.  At least the officers had let him lean on the hood of one of the cars. He was surprised he could even stand up as long as he did, but as soon as the cops arrived and pulled him aside to question him, he’d felt his knees begin to buckle.  Guess seeing a dead body really could take a lot out of a person.

Before he could think too much longer about the prospect that he’d come across a genuine dead body, Brass returned to stand in front of him, the two new people in tow, but they were looking out over the landscape where the body was laying.

“These two are with the crime lab, they’re going to want to process you and ask you a few more questions.  Once we’re all done here, you can come down to the station and pick up your belongings, sound good?” he asked, his voice much gentler than when they first began talking, and it put Will at ease.

“Yeah,” Will said as he nodded his head, “Sounds good.”

Brass gave him another smile and nod, before heading over to talk with the other officers at the scene, and one of the crime lab people turned around to face him now.

It was the man who had waved before, and he sauntered over with a polite smile on his face.  “Hey, Will Roby, right?” he asked, and proceeded once Will gave him a nod of affirmation, “I’m CSI Nick Stokes with the Las Vegas crime lab, I’m going to need a DNA sample from you and check your hands, sound alright?”

Will nodded his head again, sitting up a little straighter as he studied CSI Nick Stokes’ face.  The first thing he noticed was he had a particularly square jaw, and broad shoulders to match. He seemed oddly familiar.

“Alright, cool,” CSI Stokes said, smile widening as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and grabbed a cotton swab from the silver briefcase he’d been carrying.  “Can you open your mouth for me, please?”

Will did so, letting the CSI take a swab of his cheek before pulling a little orange cap over the end, and putting it in a plastic bag that he scribbled some notes on.

“Okay, I’m gonna ask you a few questions,” CSI Stokes said as he shifted his weight on his feet.  He had a Southern accent, probably Southwestern, and it suddenly hit Will that he had met this man before.  He kept quiet, though, and simply gave Stokes the go-ahead to ask his questions.

“Can you walk me through exactly what you did when you found the first girl?”

“Yeah, I, uh,” Will started, fiddling with the cap of the bottle, “I saw her laying under the bush, and dropped my bags to run over to her and I kneeled on the ground by her.  She… seemed scared at first? Like she thought I might be someone who’d want to hurt her.” That thought alone brought a pang of sorrow through his chest, and he took in another shaky breath, glancing down as he recounted the moments.

“I… remember raising my hands up,” he said, holding one of them up by his shoulders like he had done so before, “To show her that I didn’t want to hurt her.  I asked her if I could take the tape off her mouth, and did that. Then… went back for my bag because I remembered I had my X-Acto knife in there, so I could cut the tape off from around her wrists and ankles.  I just dropped that all on the ground where I found her, it- it should still be there,” he stuttered out near the end, looking back up at CSI Stokes to make sure he knew it would still be there. He knew he’d done the right thing, but for some reason felt like he’d also done something wrong, and it showed on his face.

“It’s alright, you did the right thing,” CSI Stokes assured him, giving him another lopsided smile, “Then what did you do?”

Will swallowed, feeling somewhat reassured, before continuing.  “I went back to my bag and grabbed my water and told her to stay in the shade of the bush.  She nearly drank all the water I had,” he said with a soft laugh, looking down at his own water bottle again, “But I’m glad.  She looked absolutely exhausted…”

CSI Stokes let the silence taper off for a moment before giving a gentle clearing of his throat.  “And then what about the other girl?” he asked, and Will was grateful he’d said the other girl and not “the body”.

“I didn’t touch her,” Will said quickly, shaking his head.  “I smelled something funny… bad… and wanted to try and find it when I figured out it wasn’t coming from the first girl.  I saw a dark lump under another shrub and moved some of the branches out of the way, but when I saw it was a human, I backed away, I swear,” he said, shaking his head some more as he looked CSI Stokes in the eye.

“Alright, alright, it’s okay, I believe you,” Stokes said with a nod of his head and gentle raising of his hand, “You did good, man.  Don’t worry.”

Will took another deep breath before taking another sip of his water, and CSI Stokes asked to take some photos of his hands and swab them for trace, which Will obliged to, as well as some other photos of his whole body, making sure he didn’t have any trace evidence on his clothes.

Once CSI Stokes had bagged all the evidence he’d taken from Will, he gave him a smile.  “Alright, thank you, sir,” he said as he clicked his briefcase shut, but he paused for a moment and stared at Will for a hot second.  Will squirmed a bit under his stare, glancing away for a moment, the eye contact getting to be a little bit too much for him. At his looking away, Stokes chuckled and waved his hands up apologetically.  “Sorry, sorry, I just… you seem familiar. Have we met before?” he asked then, and Will swallowed, his throat getting tight again.

“I- uh, I don’t think so,” he said with a shake of his head as he forced himself to look Stokes in the eye again.

The CSI let out a little “huh” then, before shaking his head, “You must just be reminding me of someone,” he said as he grabbed his case again and glanced over at his colleague, a redhead woman who was currently snapping photos of what was probably the body.  When he turned back to Will, he snapped his attention back to the investigator. “You’re all set to go. Do you need any help driving back home?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I think I’ll be okay.  I can always… pull over if I need to,” Will assured him with a slightly forced smile.

“You sure?  We can always have an officer take you home if you feel like you can’t drive,” he said with a raised brow, but Will shook his head.

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay,” he said with a sigh, before biting at his lip, “How, uh, how long before you think I can pick up my bags from the station?  The detective said they needed to look through it for possible evidence…?” 

Stokes nodded his head then.  “Yeah, it’s just protocol. Shouldn’t be too long.  If there’s nothing you really need out of the bags right now, I’d go home first and come pick it up later today.  Should be done by then,” he assured with a smile, and Will couldn’t help smiling back.

“Thank you,” he murmured then.

“No, thank  _ you _ .  Now go home, and take it easy.  You can always give us a call or come down to the station if you have any questions, okay?”

Will nodded his head, and watched as the CSI turned and headed in the direction of the other investigator and got to work alongside her.  He stayed sat on the hood of the car for a while, regaining some of his composure before tentatively standing up. His legs still felt like jelly, but at least the terrain back to the road was mostly flat.

He heard distant  _ clicks _ as both CSIs’ cameras went off and heard them make comments back and forth with each other as he turned to head back to the road.  One of the officers, Mitchell, walked over to him and silently escorted him back to his car. 

“You don’t need a ride home?” he asked as Will got into the driver’s seat.  Jeez, did he really look that bad?

Will gave a reassuring smile and shook his head.  “No, I’ll be alright, thank you, though,” he said, and held up the bottle of water, “And thank you for this.”

Officer Mitchell smiled in return, saying, “No problem,” as he shut the door for Will, giving the roof of the car a little pat, “You drive safe now, okay?”

“Okay,” Will said with a nod of his head, buckling up his seatbelt and watched Officer Mitchell head back out into the desert.  

He sat there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and drinking some more of the water as he turned on the engine and blasted the AC.  Shutting his eyes, he leaned back in his seat and let himself relax for a moment. Now he knew he wouldn’t be coming back out to paint again anytime soon, and that was a bit of a bummer.  Perhaps actually going into one of the national parks in the area would be a safer bet than just wandering out into the desert.

Opening his eyes again, he lowered the AC and turned on his radio.  It was playing some pop song, something bubbly enough that it would distract him from his thoughts to be able to focus on driving back home.  He pulled out into the road, kicking up dust as he did so, and cruised down back into Clark County.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will recounts a past experience in Las Vegas that left him scarred and traumatized, and the reason he's returned to the city.
> 
> (tw: sexual assault, i've bolded the first sentence where it begins, and the last sentence where it ends, so you can skip over it if you'd like!)

After a long enough shower for Will to use his soap, shampoo, and conditioner twice over, he got into some sweats and a loose tee-shirt before gracefully flopping himself down onto the couch in his living room.  He’d had a good cry in the shower as well, letting his sobs rack his body as all his shock and adrenaline finally dissipated. Now, as he lay on the couch, he felt exhaustion start to creep in, so he caved in and shut his eyes.

He didn’t think CSI Stokes would have recognized him, and was grateful he brushed it off when Will pretended he didn’t know what the investigator was talking about.

In reality, they had met before.  It was years back, when Will’s parents had brought him to Las Vegas the summer after his twenty-first birthday, when he was home from school.  They drove out from Los Angeles and stayed in one of the hotels a block away from the strip. Will was at least able to bring some friends with him, just two, so he didn’t have to stick with his parents the whole time.

He really didn’t know why they’d decided to take him to Las Vegas, since he didn’t enjoy drinking.  He’d only given himself the pleasure of buying a drink once he turned the legal age, but only took a sip of it and passed the rest off to some friends the night they went out to celebrate.  But he never really told his parents that, since it wasn’t a huge deal.

One of his friends enjoyed drinking more than the other, so they got to be the “sober friends” that watched the third, though he didn’t get too drunk anyway.  

They had fun, nonetheless.  Played a few slots, just enough to waste a few twenties, but otherwise walked through the casinos just to watch and take in the atmosphere, and went to a few different shows on the strip.  

On what was supposed to be their last night, the three of them went to a gay club, figuring they’d go out with a bang, dance a bit, and maybe meet some people.

They all danced together, and Will was having a great time.  He gave in to his friend, Andrew’s, begging to have at least one drink, and ordered, “An alcoholic drink that tastes almost nothing like alcohol, please,” and was able to enjoy its sweetness.  

Having never really had alcohol before, it made his mind go a little hazy, but he was barely even tipsy when a stranger came up behind him and began dancing, nearly grinding into his ass.

Hyped up on the fun of the night, Will turned to the man and laughed.  “You could at least say ‘hello’ first,” he quipped playfully.

“My apologies,  _ sir _ ,” the man grinned out, pausing his hip movement to hold up his hands in mock surrender, “Hello.”

Will couldn’t help giggling at that and glanced over at his friends, who watched him with a grin and motioned that they were going to go sit at the bar.  Will nodded his head, feeling safer than he thought being left alone, and offering a smile back to the stranger.

“Will,” he said, introducing himself as he held out his hand for a shake.

“Cristian,” the other man said, holding out his hand in return, giving Will’s a gentle squeeze, before pulling him in close, his other hand looping around Will’s waist to press against his lower back.

Will let out a small yelp and looked up at the man, his heart in his throat, but he swallowed it down with another chuckle.  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

They chatted and danced like that for a while, only stopping when the songs turned a bit more mellow and Cristian held Will’s hand to drag him over to the bar.  Will saw his friends at one end, and Cristian led him to the other. The trio exchanged glances and small waves and thumbs up, and Will sat on one of the stools beside the tall stranger.

“Can we get two Tequila Daisies, please?” Cristian asked the bartender, who started on their drinks with a polite smile.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think I need a drink,” Will tried to interject, but Cristian put his hand over Will’s and shook his head.

“Oh, come on, you wanna have some fun?  It’s on me.”

Will chuckled, nervous now, and shook his head.  “Really, I’m okay.”

Too late, the drinks were in front of them, and Will let out a sigh.  Cristian grabbed for his, taking a long swig out of the glass and tossed down a few bills for the bartender.

Smacking his lips, he gave Will a grin.  “Come on, they’re really delicious.”

“I really don’t like the taste of alcohol,” Will admitted with a grimace, eyeing the glass uninterestedly.

“Oh, well if that’s it, how about I just add some more sugar?” Cristian asked, reaching over the bar with a loose fist to grab up a packet of sugar from a small box, with only a small glance from the bartender who was busy helping another guest.

Will sighed and bit at his lip, watching the man carefully as red flags started to go up.  Cristian ripped open two packets of sugar at once and poured them in, giving it a little stir with the straw, and smiling sweetly at Will before pushing the glass toward him.

“There, have a sip.”

Just so the man would get off his back about it, Will hesitantly lifted the glass to his lips and took a small sip, twisting his face at the taste that the sugar barely covered.  The face made Cristian laugh, and he urged Will to take a bigger sip. Will obliged, again, to get him off his back, but began coughing as he slammed the still mostly-full glass back onto the counter.

“God, that’s so gross,” Will said as he let out a breathless laugh and another cough.

Cristian laughed again, but continued to egg him on, until Will had downed half the glass, and then he refused to drink anymore.  He was already feeling hazier than before, and it didn’t help that it was making his anxiety go haywire.

“Man, I gotta stop, I can’t have anymore,” Will said with a deep frown, no longer looking the man in the face, “I should… I should maybe go back to my friends-”

“Nah, come on, stay with me,” Cristian begged, holding onto one of Will’s hands again, now giving an apologetic smile, “Want me to take you outside for some fresh air?”

More red flags went up, but Will just wanted this man to leave him be, so he nodded his head, inebriated enough by the new alcohol in his system that he half leaned on Cristian as he led him out a side door of the club, so that they were in an alley rather than on the busy front sidewalk.

**Will was somewhat grateful for that, and felt safe enough because he could hear the sound of people coming from the front entrance.**  Just as he was collecting himself again, he felt Cristian behind him again, wrapping his arms gently around his waist.  He leaned back into his chest with a sigh, but before he could make a remark about how he was already feeling better, Cristian brought a hand up over his mouth and ground his dick into Will’s ass.

Will immediately tensed up, eyes wide as shock overtook his body, making him unable to move, and all he could hear was blood roaring in his ears as his heart rate skyrocketed.  

He stayed silent as Cristian ground against him again and again, grunting in Will’s ear, and making him whimper with fear.

“Ah, you like that, do ya’?”

_ No, he didn’t. _

“You little slut, tranny bitch.  You think your girly face can be a man?  You fucking bitch,” Cristian hissed, and Will whimpered again, beginning to go limp against him as his legs turned to jelly.  He wanted to just melt into the floor.

Panic was overtaking him, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight  _ or _ fly.  He could only stay still and quiet, too afraid that an assault could escalate to rape or murder, if it wasn’t already headed there.

“You and your tranny friends aren’t welcome here, you know that?” he growled out, continuing to thrust into Will’s clothed backside.  Will whimpered again, a lump forming in his throat as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his breaths growing shaky.

_ Let me go.  Let me go. Let me go. _

“You think you’re so special?  That you belong here with us? This is our community, you deluded freaks aren’t welcome,” Cristian barked out again, growing more aggressive as he shoved Will into the wall to get more leverage.  Only now, he dropped his hand from Will’s mouth to grab more around his middle, and when Will felt hands start to work at the button of his jeans, his fight or flight response finally kicked in.

He grabbed at Cristian’s arm and twisted like his life depended on it, managing to push himself away from the wall into the stranger to make him lose his balance.

“You  _ bitch _ , let go!” he screamed as he tried to grab at Will with his other arm to stop him, but Will let go and made a break for it out of the alley to the front of the club.  Having a headstart on Cristian, he managed to break onto the sidewalk, heart still pounding as he turned to look back at the alley, Cristian still standing where he’d left him.

**It took a moment for Will to find his voice, but he told the few people around him that he was alright when they asked if he needed any help, and instead pushed his way back into the club.**  He met his friends making their way toward the exit, and upon seeing him they immediately grew worried.

“Where’d you go?”  “We couldn’t find you.”  “Are you alright?” “Oh my God, did you get hurt?”  “What’s that mark on your cheek-”

Unable to hold himself together anymore, Will broke down in tears and fell into their arms.  He couldn’t explain himself until they got back to their hotel room, and he was so glad his parents weren’t in the room next door just yet.

It was his friends who urged him to contact the police, and they helped him with the phone call to report the assault, and the dispatcher urged them to go down to the station so they could better asses the situation.

After a silent and somewhat tense cab ride to the police station, they’d wandered in, and as soon as they talked to the officer at the front desk and filled out a form about the assault, Will was brought back into a secluded room to answer some questions and be processed while his friends waited in the front room.

Will answered all the detective’s questions as best he could, though thinking back he couldn’t really remember what he had answered.  He did remember that the detective he talked to hadn’t been the one he talked to today, detective Brass. Thankfully, the detective made the questions quick, with lots of “miss”s and “ma’am”s thrown in to make it sting even more, but Will didn’t have the heart to correct him.

Once he was finished with him, that’s when the CSIs were called in.  A woman with pale orange hair came in, a polite smile on her face as she said hello and introduced herself.  Will remembered her name started with an C, but couldn’t remember anything more than that, but remembered her as being the same woman who he saw today in the desert.  

She asked a few more questions, some repeated, but some more specific, as she took samples from under his fingernails and got photos of his hands, the bruise beginning to form on his face from the impact with the brick wall in the alley, and informed him that he was going to have to give them his clothes, but his friends could leave to pick him up a change of clothes while they processed his current ones.  She also took his DNA and a blood sample to test for any drugs he may have been slipped, because, when he thought back to it, there definitely must have been something in the drink he was given to make him go so willingly.

After he’d given them everything they needed, and his friends had hurried back to the hotel to get him some clothes to change into, he was given the business card of the detective he’d first talked to, and informed that he’d be contacted if they had anymore questions or found out anymore information.  They said it helped that he got a first name and a good description of his face, but it could be awhile before the suspect was found. That just filled Will with dread. He asked if he would be able to drive back home tomorrow, but they recommended he stay in town for the next day or so.

They booked another night in the hotel, but stayed inside the whole time, only leaving to buy snacks and get something other than room service for lunch.  Will had his phone out with the ringer on the entire time, but he still nearly jumped out of his skin when it rang with the detective’s phone number.

He listened intently as the detective read him off some information they’d gathered; that he had been drugged, that they found viable DNA from the guy under his fingernails, and that it was able to lead them to him, and they had him arrested at the station.

It nearly knocked the breath out of Will, and he let out a huge sigh of relief, as he began to thank the detective over and over again, and agreed to come down to the station to positively ID the suspect they had in custody.

When he arrived at the station that night, he saw the CSI woman who had initially processed him, and another CSI, who Will now remembered was CSI Nick Stokes who he’d seen again this morning.  

He remembered what CSI Stokes had said to him when he arrived outside the room where they were holding the suspect.  “Give yourself a moment, and look through this window and tell us if this is the man who assaulted you, okay? He can’t see you, so he won’t know you’re here.”  His voice had been gentle, and Will managed to somewhat calm his nerves to look through the glass.

His blood went cold, and a lump rose in his throat again as he stared in at Cristian.  He was just sitting there, not even looking worried, and it made Will’s stomach turn. He knew he’d gotten off easy, since he’d been able to fight off his attacker, and lots of other people weren’t so lucky when it came to getting assaulted.  He just stared, tension wired through his whole body as he clenched his jaw, hands forming to fists at his sides.

He was  _ angry _ .  

And that anger turned into tears that fell down his cheeks, which he wiped at furiously with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Yeah, that’s him,” he choked out, taking in a deep, shaking breath, before quickly turning and heading down the hall, unable to look at that man anymore.

After that, he didn’t remember much.  He’d been able to get his clothes back, even though he knew he’d probably be throwing them out now anyway.  They went back to the hotel and began packing, getting ready to head back to Los Angeles. Will just had to get home, but he told the CSIs and detective that whenever there was a hearing, he’d gladly drive back up and testify if he needed to.  He wanted to put the fucker behind bars for as long as he could, so nobody else got hurt.

Now, it was nearly seven years later, and Will was twenty-eight years old.  He’d finished school and moved back to Los Angeles for several years, working as a freelance artist, doing commissions and creating storyboards for TV commercials.  

He wasn’t really sure why he decided to move to Las Vegas.  It was mostly an impulse decision, and a desire to move closer to the Southwest.  He wanted to move somewhere like Albuquerque, New Mexico, but figured he’d have a bit more luck finding work in a busy town like Las Vegas.  At least he got the desert landscapes he desired. And maybe then he’d be able to put the horrible assault behind him and create new memories in Las Vegas.

It had worked out for the first six months, and he’d gotten some good clients who wanted to move closer to the west coast, but couldn’t afford to live in Los Angeles, and even showed some drawings and the few paintings he had in a few galleries.

But now it looked like that luck had run out, and some more nasty memories were going to come after him.  He hated to think like this, but he was glad he wasn’t a victim in this scenario. He’d much rather be the one helping someone rather than be the victim of yet another crime.

At least now he was able to meet that CSI Nick Stokes again, he thought amusedly.  

He hadn’t really paid him much mind when he’d been working on his assault case, since they often put him with the other CSI, since she was a woman, and they thought Will was a woman.  

But, having distinctly remembered what CSI Stokes had said to him before he saw Cristian in that room, his accent had stuck in his mind.  Now, he was able to put a clearer face to the voice. He was kind of cute, too, and that gave Will a good soft laugh before he dozed off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes back to the station to answer a few questions, and is confronted with his past experience in Las Vegas once again, this time by the CSIs themselves.

When Will awoke, the sun was setting outside, casting a warm, orange glow across his living room as the light streamed in through the window.  He let out a heavy sigh, knowing that now he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight, and pushed himself up off the couch to grab some food from the kitchen.

He heated up a quick microwave meal, leaning on the counter as he sipped at a glass of grapefruit juice and listened to the hum of the machine as it heated his food.  He let out a huff then as he glanced at the clock, seeing it already read past seven o’clock.

“God, I hope I can get my stuff,” he sighed out, worried that maybe it would be closed.  But police were on call 24/7, right? He had to be able to get his stuff. 

The microwave beeped, and he got out his food to let it cool.  He grabbed for his cell phone and fished his pants out of the hamper to grab the detective’s business card and dialed the number.  

It rang once, twice, and he picked up after the third ring.

“Detective Jim Brass, how can I help you?”

“Hi, uh, Detective Brass, this is Will Roby?  I’m the guy who found those two girls in the desert this morning…” he explained, and let out a little relieved sigh when Brass immediately said he remembered him.  “I was just wondering,” Will continued, “if you knew if I could come pick up my bags tonight? I can head down any time…”

“I believe you can come pick them up, yes,” Brass answered, and Will could hear the sound of paper being shuffled around, “The CSIs would also like to ask you a few more questions, I think, so if you could come down within the next hour that would be perfect.”

Will’s stomach lurched a little at the prospect of being asked more questions, but he agreed to stop by.  “Sure, anything I can do to help.”

He forced himself to eat his food quickly, finishing off his juice as well, before tossing out his garbage and setting his glass in the sink to soak.  He changed into a clean pair of jeans, a shirt, and a light jacket. On his way to the door, he paused and turned back to grab a tote bag and stuff the clothes he’d worn today inside.  They had only snapped some photos of his clothes, so maybe they saw something and wanted to have a closer look. Once he had everything he needed, he grabbed his keys, and headed out to the car to drive to the police station.

Upon arriving, he was brought back into the detective’s office for some questions to be asked, with CSI Stokes and the other woman at the crime scene, as well as another man, who had grey curly hair and wore glasses.

“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Roby.  Please, sit down,” detective Brass said as he sat behind his desk and motioned for him to sit in a chair opposite him.  

Will did so, and glanced nervously at the three other people in the room, his eyes falling on CSI Stokes as he began talking, leafing through some papers in a manilla folder he held in his hand.

“Mr. Roby, we wanted to share some information we’ve found with you, and ask you some more questions, alright?” he asked as he looked back up at Will.

“Yeah, alright.  And, uh, you can call me Will, if you’d like,” he said, biting gently at his lip to keep himself from getting too nervous.

That made CSI Stokes smile a bit, and he hummed before continuing on with what he was going to say.  “Will. First off, we’d like to inform you that the young lady you found in the desert is doing well.  She’s currently at Desert Palm Hospital being treated for dehydration, a fractured ulna, and a mild concussion, but she’s stable and the doctors say she’s going to pull through perfectly alright.”

Will let out a huge sigh of relief, a smile coming to his face as he slumped back in his chair.  “Oh, thank god,” he gasped out with a soft laugh, running a hand through his short hair for a moment as he took it all in, and watched as CSI Stokes and the redhead CSI each smile in return.

When Will sat back up straight, the woman spoke.  “Now, we wanted to ask you if you were certain you didn’t see anybody else out in the desert,” she said with a small shake of her head.

Will frowned softly, but furrowed his brow as he thought back to it, looking down at the carpet below their feet.  “I… no, I don’t think so…” he said quietly, and as he thought it over, he figured it might be good to think out loud in this situation, in case anything might help.  “I passed a few other cars on the road, but didn’t notice anything strange about any of them. When I pulled over, I…” he tapered off on a sigh, trying to think back to if he saw anything strange, but just shook his head and looked back up at the CSI, “I’m really sorry, ma’am, I don’t think I saw anything…”

She let out a sigh of her own, “Not even… maybe someone you thought could be a hiker?  Or maybe you’d seen someone out there previously? You said you’d been out there a couple times, correct?”

Will nodded his head, but it soon turned to shaking as he tried to think back to the half-dozen other times he’d been down that road to find a good painting spot.  “I mean, maybe. But… they always had backpacks and full-on hiker gear on, so it seemed pretty normal to me… they were always in pairs, too, looked like couples, men and women,” he said, his frown growing even deeper.  Maybe he really wasn’t going to be any help. All he’d really ever seen were people who looked like legitimate hikers, and he never got a really good look at them anyway, so he wouldn’t be able to help much even if he remembered them.

They all seemed to let out sighs of disappointment, even Will, before he remembered something and snapped his eyes back up to the woman’s.

“I do remember this one time, I was sitting on the hood of my car doing some sketching, and…” his eyebrows furrowed, and the CSIs all looked expectantly at him.  He took a moment to think, letting out a soft laugh. “And -- it was the strangest thing -- he asked if I had any rope on me. This- this guy, came up- pulled up in his car, and asked for rope, said he needed it for… some rock climbing thing, I don’t even really remember, but I told him I didn’t and he thanked me and continued driving on up the road.”

All four of them perked up then, exchanging looks, before the man in the glasses spoke up.

“Do you remember what he looked like?  What car he was driving?”

Will bit at his lip again and pinched between his eyes as he tried to remember.  “Ah, I’m pretty sure he was white. Light-skinned, at least, and… he had a really long, rectangular face, and either black or dark brown hair.  He had sunglasses on and only rolled his window halfway down, so I couldn’t see very much, but… that’s all I remember,” Will rambled out, before trying to think of what kind of car it could be.

_ Like I’d know what kind of car it would be _ , he thought amusedly, thinking of some joke about how  _ I’m gay, of course I don’t know anything about cars. _

“I remember it being… a light color, but not white.  I want to say either tan or gold? Maybe silver, I’m not sure,” he murmured, “It… was a small car, too.  Like, a compact car, not an SUV. Other than that, I really don’t know.”

“Did you see his license plate?” the man pressed, waving his pen lightly as he watched Will over the top of his glasses.

Giving an apologetic smile, Will shook his head.  “No, I’m sorry… when he pulled up, he was right next to me so I just saw the side of his car.  And at the time it just seemed like a strange, innocent encounter, so I didn’t watch as he drove away…”

The man just nodded his head and offered a small smile.  “That’s alright. You’ve already helped move us in a good direction.”

Will smiled softly in return and gave a little nod of his head, before he remembered the bag he’d brought with him.  “Oh, I uh, I wasn’t sure if you guys might still want this…” he said as he brought the bag up into his lap, and the others gave him a questioning look, “It’s my clothes that I was wearing today.  I wasn’t sure if they’d be any help with anything, like… maybe something from the girl came off on them, or something?”

They all watched him for a moment, before the man in the glasses shrugged.  “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to process them,” he admitted, and CSI Stokes reached out to take the bag with a thanks, announcing he’d go get started on it right away before heading out.

Once the door was shut, the woman let out a small sigh and looked back at Will, who suddenly felt very vulnerable and nervous under her gaze.  She didn’t look upset, just like she wanted to ask a question about Will himself, and that worried him. Mostly because he knew what the question was going to be.

She gave him a small smile, before speaking again.  “Now, this isn’t the first time you’ve been to Vegas,” she said, and Will knew she knew it was a fact.

He simply nodded his head, feeling his throat going dry again like it had this morning.  He remembered her as being the one to process him after his sexual assault, but did she remember him now?

“I… don’t know if you remember me.  I’m CSI Catherine Willows-”  _ Catherine! That’s what her name was _ . “-and I helped solve a case that you were a part of nearly eight years ago.”

Will just stared up at her, waiting for her to continue.  He knew he was found out, and it’s not like it would be the end of the world if they knew he was transgender, but he was worried they’d start doubting him, and make some bigoted remark at his expense.

“When we ran the DNA we took from you this morning, so that we could eliminate you as a suspect since you did touch one of the victims, you showed up in that old sexual assault case, under a different name,” she continued, and Will nodded his head, feeling extremely tense and trying to swallow the lump growing in his throat.  He really didn’t want to cry anymore today, let alone in this office with three other people. CSI Willows went silent then, and let out a little sigh as she looked down at the papers she held in her hand, but before she could speak again, the man in glasses shifted where he sat leaned on the detective’s desk.

“Mr. Roby, this information doesn’t change how we’re viewing you as a witness, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said as he gently lifted his glasses from his face to look directly at him.

Will let out a shaky little sigh, and nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak as he bit at his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“We’ve put your correct name in the system now, so there won’t be any confusion, and I’ve talked with CSI Willows here, as well as CSI Stokes, since he also worked that case eight years ago.”  CSI Willows gave Will a reassuring smile then, and Will couldn’t help letting out a breathless little laugh of relief. “We haven’t told anyone else, either, if that’s what you’d prefer. We chalked it up to a mistake in the system when one of the assistants who ran the DNA asked questions about it.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he settled on a soft, “Thank you,” with a nod of his head before pausing and asking, “I- I’m sorry, but can I ask your name?”

The man paused a moment and chuckled, seemingly shocked that he hadn’t already introduced himself.  “CSI Supervisor Gil Grissom,” he answered, holding out his hand, which Will gladly took to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Will said softly, to which Grissom smiled before letting his hand go to stand up and put his glasses back on.

“Thank you for coming on down here, Mr. Roby, it really did help us out.  We’ll call you if we need anymore information, and you’re always welcome to come back down or call if you remember anything,” he said warmly as Will and detective Brass also stood up, and they all headed out single file.

After that, Will was able to retrieve his belongings and head back home.  He made himself a little more food to eat, even though it was already almost ten o’clock at night, but because of his extra long nap in the middle of the day, he wasn’t quite as tired as he should have been.  

Even still, after eating his food, answering several emails, and giving his friends an update on social media vaguely describing that he’d be a little M.I.A. for awhile, he found himself yawning and craving at least a few hours of sleep in his bed.  It was almost one in the morning when he shut off his computer, changed into some pajamas, and curled up under his duvet.

It took awhile, but he let his mind wander as he slowly drifted off to sleep, his last moment of thought stuck on CSI Grissom’s kind actions with handling his information.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grissom advises Nick and Catherine to be better allies, prompting Nick to think over his current relationship with Greg, and make sure Will feels safe and comfortable in the presence of law enforcement.

At the lab, their night was just beginning.  Since the call had been placed right at the end of the shift, a lot of those on the night shift stayed overtime to get a jump on the evidence, and now they were all running on very little sleep and mostly adrenaline.  

“How’re those clothes coming along?” Grissom asked as he passed by Nick examining Mr. Roby’s clothes that he’d just brought up to the station.

“It’s alright, there’s some trace from the desert on here.  Probably some epithelials too, I’ll get it all to trace and DNA,” he assured before focusing back on lifting some twigs snagged in the sleeve of the hoodie.

Catherine, pulling on a lab coat and pair of gloves, joined Nick to watch him work and look at the rest of their evidence.

“What did you guys keep talking about?” Nick asked Catherine as he wrote a note on one of his findings and placed it in a bag.  He watched Grissom continue to lean in the doorway out of the corner of his eye, reading over some papers.

“We just asked him about when the last time he was in Vegas was, and talked to him about how he should contact us if he has any questions or thinks of anymore information,” she said with a sigh as she leaned over some photos of each of the girls’ wounds to look at their comparisons again.

“Did you ask him about when  _ he _ was a  _ she _ ?” he asked, somewhat incredulous in an ignorant sort of way, and Catherine opened her mouth to answer accompanied by a soft laugh, but Grissom interrupted them.

“ _ He _ was never really a  _ she _ ,” he corrected, now sounding incredulous toward Nick, which made both he and Catherine hush up and stare nervously at their supervisor.  “He only most likely thought he  _ was _ a she because that’s what everyone around him told him.  Only now, and as he grew closer to adulthood, was he able to understand what and who he actually is.  You should really know more about this, Nick,” he said sternly before turning on his heel and heading back down the hall to another part of the lab, leaving Nick and Catherine speechless, staring after him.

Catherine was the first to speak, and gave Nick a little bump on the arm.  “I think as one of the not-straight people in the lab, he expects you to know more about your own community,” she said amusedly, which made Nick roll his eyes and huff a bit.

“Yeah, I guess.  It just doesn’t come up as often as other things, you know?” he sighed out.

Catherine smiled softly then.  “Yeah, well, I could tell he was scared in there when I brought it up.”

Nick looked at her, a frown creasing his face.  “Oh…” was all he could say. He didn’t want the kid to feel scared about being himself.  And when he thought back to the first case, he figured that maybe the reason Will hadn’t said anything was because he was afraid to correct them, for fear that they’d harm him in some way or drop the case out of bigotry.

When he voiced this to Catherine, she nodded her head in agreement.  “I was thinking the same thing,” she sighed, before turning back to her own work.

Nick mulled this over for a while, and let out a breath through his nose before focusing on his own work as well.  Even as a queer guy, he really didn’t figure out his sexuality till a few years prior. Embarrassedly, he had to admit it started when Greg first came to work for them.  The kid had been sweet, and a real spark in the lab. He still was.

Nick always thought he was straight, and his affinity for finding guys attractive was just a common factor among all guys, straight or not.  He always thought that he could admit a guy was attractive, and that didn’t make him gay.

Well, he wasn’t even actually gay.  He’d stuck to the “bi” label, because he knew he definitely still liked women, but Greg had set something off in him, and after working together for a few years he finally caved and talked to him about it.

Greg had come out to everyone as queer pretty much right off the bat, mostly using that term to describe himself, while sometimes using the term “pansexual” to describe his attraction.  Maybe that’s what made him more attractive to Nick, but when he knew for sure that Greg was queer, he couldn’t keep him out of his head.

For the first year or so, Nick was in denial, and blamed it on not having a partner for a while.  He had a few short-term girlfriends during and after that, but nothing lasted very long, for various reasons.  The ones he split it off with always came back to the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about that little DNA lab rat with the spiked up hair.  The following couple of years he spent mulling it over, and doing his research on different labels he could use for himself and finding what he was comfortable with.  He even went to several gay bars and strip clubs to find if he really was attracted to dudes. And man, oh man, was he attracted to them.

He had a few hookups, got himself some practice, and he learned that he could give a mean blowjob, but never extended any formal proposals for a relationship with any of the other men he met.  He had his sights set on Greg, only by the time he’d figured himself out, Greg was in a relationship with some guy who worked at a sandwich shop several blocks away.

So, he waited.  And waited. And waited.

For a while, he thought he’d moved on, but there was always a reason to fall back into his crush on the geeky lab tech.

When Greg finally broke up with the boyfriend down the street, Nick’s heart was soaring.  He’d finally have a chance to ask, but, much to his own dismay, he wanted to wait. He didn’t want to start something with Greg only for it to be cut short because it was simply a rebound to get over the breakup.

And so he waited even more.  Greg was moved into the field, much to Nick’s joy and displeasure, as now if they did become an item, they’d have to work around Ecklie and either hide their relationship, or end up having to change shifts.  Greg also lost the spiked-up hair, which made Nick a little sad, but the guy was moving up in his career, and he would be happy if Greg was happy.

He waited.

Until he then thought it was too late; he’d put it off too long and now he was trapped in a box underground with a tape recorder and a gun.  He’d left his message on the tape, but opted out of saying anything directly to Greg about his feelings. He didn’t want the kid to have that extra weight hanging on his shoulders.

But then they’d found him.

And after sitting up in the hospital for a few days, on his first shift back at work, he went straight to the break room where, thankfully, Greg was sitting alone with a bag of chips and a case file in front of him.

“Hey, Nick, glad to see you back on your feet!” he’d said warmly, flashing that toothy grin that made Nick’s heart skip a beat.  He could already feel his cheeks going pink, and he forced a small smile through his nerves and gently shut the door behind him.

Greg gave him an odd look, but a genuine smile was still present.

Nick couldn’t even bring himself to sit down, in case he had to make a quick escape, and they just stared between each other for a while.

After a few moments too long of silence, Greg arched a brow and began to speak, “Is there somethi-”

“Do you wanna go get breakfast sometime?” Nick stammered out, breaking through his nerves and fear of rejection.  Greg went silent and stared at him, mouth half open, and Nick realized he was gripping the chair in front of him hard enough that his knuckles were turning white.  He quickly let go of the chair and held his hands behind his back then, trying not to look as nervous as he really was.

Greg smiled softly at him, still a bit perplexed.  “I mean, totally. We can invite everyone else-”

“No,” Nick interrupted, and Greg raised his brow curiously.  “Just… just the two of us,” Nick added, now for sure knowing his cheeks were bright red.

Greg’s mouth snapped shut and his own cheeks turned pink, making Nick feel a little better, but he still kinda felt like he was about to hurl all over the desk; right in front of his crush, too.

It took a few moments, what seemed like an eternity to Nick, before Greg answered, that big, dopey smile coming to his face once more.  “I… I’d love to,” he said finally, and now Nick was able to break into a huge smile.

They didn’t go out that morning, since Greg was slammed from the case he was working on, but the following week they made a plan to go out and get breakfast together after their shift.  They talked over Nick’s sexuality, since the only person he’d confided in so far was Warrick, and now he was going to have to tell the entire team, but Greg was more than happy to help him do so.  He was surprised that Nick hadn’t taken his flirting at face value, since everyone else in the lab could tell that Greg had a bit of a crush on the CSI. Nick really was a bit dense when it came to this stuff.

When Nick asked why he didn’t make a move, Greg said it was because he thought Nick was straight, or at least not interested.  Though, as soon as Nick came out to him, he said, “I knew you had a queer vibe about you.” It made the both of them laugh, and Nick gave Greg a little nudge at his shin under the table.

Everything turned out fine at work, and everything continued to get better with Greg.  They’d just passed the year and a half mark of getting together, and were already considering having Greg move in to Nick’s apartment.  Greg spent so much time there anyway that Nick even joked about making him help pay rent. They hadn’t quite fine-tuned everything, and they each wanted to make sure they knew this was the right thing to do, so they weren’t jumping to it.  But they were happy together, and that was all that mattered. 

Grissom had even managed to convince Ecklie to keep them working on the same shift, at least for now, since they both had good track records, and they both knew they’d be under a microscope now.  Nick still didn’t know how he managed to pull that off, but the both of them were on thin ice for a rather long time, and still were under a tight watch. They also told each other that any romantic interactions were to a bare minimum at work, and that seemed to help their case somewhat.  It also allowed for more subtle flirting that could come to a climax by the time they got home (both literally and figuratively).

Nick had grown more comfortable with his sexuality now, and learned more about the queer community, but the only real interactions he’d had with transgender people were drag queens, who he learned weren’t always actually trans, and those who often dubbed themselves as cross-dressers, which most of the time happened to be trans people who’d found their identity through other, older terminology.  One of the few more recent times he could think of was the trans woman they’d found in her car on the side of the road, brutally murdered, and led them into the world of underground sex-reassignment surgeries. At least now he could add Will Roby to the list of trans people he’d met and interacted with.

He’d definitely be talking with Greg about this more, since he knew a bit more about the broader range of identities people could have, and try his best to learn.  After all, Will was their prime witness in the case, so they’d most likely be seeing more of each other, and Nick wanted him to feel comfortable so he could better share information with them.

 

~~~~~

 

Over the next several days, Will got snippets of information from the detective on the case, and it had been broken in the news that both girls showed similar traumas, and therefore were most likely dumped there by the same person.  That sent a chill down Will’s spine, and he was told not to go back out to the site where the bodies were found for a while. He’d also gotten his processed clothes back, which had, unfortunately, not given much more information than they already had.  

Will found himself staying inside most of the time, going out once to run a quick errand.  He managed to keep himself busy with some smaller commissions for some friends, and traded emails with a possible client for a comic commission.

It was nearly three days later when he got a call from detective Brass, asking if he’d like to come down to the hospital where the woman he’d saved was still recovering, but was now awake and asking to see the man who’d given her the water.  Will had left almost immediately after he hung up the phone, and hurried to the hospital. 

When he arrived and got to her room, she gave him a quizzical look, clearly wondering who he was and why he was there, as the officer standing at her door let him in.  Detective Brass followed behind him, as well as CSI Stokes. Apparently, she had only just woken up and was coherent enough to talk to people, so they were all down there to ask her questions, but she wanted to see Will first.  Now Will didn’t feel so guilty for sleeping for nearly ten hours on that first day when she was asleep for nearly three days. She did need it, after all. When he walked closer, he gave her a little wave and a smile, and then she perked up.

“You’re- the guy, that guy who helped me,” she said, a bit breathless as she sat up a little more in her bed and reached a hand out to him.

Will walked closer and reached out to take her hand, chuckling a bit as he did so.  “Yeah, that’s me,” he said with a smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as he sat down in a chair by the bed.  As they both stared at each other, tears started to form in each of their eyes, and the woman clapped her free hand over her mouth as she let out a little sob.

Will just smiled at her and gave a breathless little laugh as he wiped at his own tears, and grabbed a tissue to hand over to her.  She gladly took it and blew her nose, before taking in a deep breath to compose herself.

“Thank you… so much…” she whimpered, unable to stop herself from crying, so Will held the whole box of tissues over the bed for her, and they both laughed a bit.

After another few moments to let her compose herself, and a few squeezes of her hand from Will, she was able to talk again.

“I thought I was going to die.  When you found me, I- I thought you might’ve been  _ him _ , coming back for me, but your voice… was so soft, and kind,” she gasped out, a wide smile, still wet with tears, plastered on her face, “You really did save me.  You saved my life. I would’ve… that other girl could’ve also been me…”

Will took in a ragged breath, lower lip trembling again as he squeezed her hand tight once more, and wiped at his eyes furiously.  “I just knew I had to help. I’m glad I found you,” he said with a soft smile. “And I’m glad you drank all of my water,” he added with a laugh, and his smile only grew wider when she laughed as well.

“I’m Will, by the way,” he said as he gave her hand a little shake, and she smiled.

“Angie,” she said warmly in response, before just taking a moment to relax again, wiping at her eyes with another tissue.

Will kept holding onto her hand as CSI Stokes pulled up a chair beside him and gave his own genuinely warm smile to Angie.

“Hi, I’m CSI Nick Stokes with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, and this is detective Jim Brass from the police department,” he said as he motioned to Brass, who offered up his own smile, but otherwise stayed standing at the foot of the bed with his notepad in hand.  “We’re the ones investigating your case, and we wanted to ask you a few questions.”

He glanced at Will then, who looked back with a cock of his head.

“Unfortunately, we’re going to need to ask you to leave for the questions, for safety reasons-” CSI Stokes began, but was cut off by Angie who squeezed even tighter onto Will’s hand.

“I don’t want him to leave,” she said, voice firm, but her anxiety was noticeable.

Will looked between the three of them, eyes a little wide as he contemplated what to do, though he stayed put in his chair.  CSI Stokes let out a small sigh, and glanced back at Brass, who also let out a sigh, before just shrugging and saying, “Alright.  If it makes you more comfortable, Miss Parton, Mr. Roby here can stay with you,” Brass said, and both Will and Angie let out a breath of relief.  Brass looked over at Will then, gaze hard, “But anything that is said in here that hasn’t already been said to the public is nothing you can share.  Understand?”

Will nodded his head, offering a meek “yes, sir” before turning back to Angie and giving her a gentle smile, which she returned.

Most of the questions they asked were about if she remembered anything that had happened to her, or if she remembered the man who’d attacked her.  Unfortunately, she didn’t remember much of the attack, but she remembered a vague description of the man. The description she gave them was very similar to that of the one Will had given of the man he’d encountered in the car, and it made his blood run cold.

It made him sick to his stomach to think that this man had probably been planning the death of the first girl, the dead body they’d found, and was going to use the rope to tie her up.  Will covered his face with his free hand, suddenly feeling shaky. If only his intuition had been better, maybe he would’ve thought the guy was more suspicious.

The only other thing she told them was a vague memory of driving through Summerlin, which she recognized since she lived in the area, and the next thing she knew, she was being woken up by a kind stranger with a cold bottle of water.  The location, at least, was something more they could look into, and informed her that they would be back with more questions as the investigation continued.

They told her what they knew that they could share with her, and offered her police protection for when she was released from the hospital before they left.  She also finally let go of Will’s hand, and when Brass gave her his business card, Will also wrote his number on a scrap of paper, just so they had a way to keep in touch if need be.

As they exited the room, CSI Stokes and Brass exchanged a few hushed words as Will checked his watch.  It was almost nine o’clock at night, but he felt like he wouldn’t fall asleep as easily as usual tonight.  He absently thought about taking something to help him sleep once he got home, but was drawn out of his thoughts by a gentle touch on his arm.

He turned to see Brass walking away down the hall and CSI Stokes standing beside him now.

“Ah, is there something I can help you with, Mr. Stokes?” Will asked softly, turning to face him as he put his hands in his jacket pockets.

The “Mr. Stokes” seemed to make the CSI chuckle, and he shook his head.  “You can call me Nick,” he said, and Will hummed amusedly and nodded his head in acknowledgement, thinking it was slightly odd to be on a first name basis with him, but just smiled.

Nick let out a little sigh then and glanced around, before leading Will down the hall a little ways, away from where there were lots of people walking around.  Will looked at him curiously, brow raised. Was something wrong? Should Will have not given her his number? Did they find more information they felt they could share with him?  

“I just… wanted to apologize,” Nick began, and Will wasn’t expecting that, and he assumed his shock showed on his face because Nick chuckled again before continuing.  “For all those years ago, I… we didn’t know that, you know, you weren’t a girl.”

Will let out a little sigh then and glanced down at his shoes for a moment, before looking back up at Nick with a tender smile.  “Hey, it’s alright, don’t worry about it. I was used to it at that point, and didn’t want to cause any confusion by… having two different names on the report, or whatever,” he murmured with a shake of his head.

Nodding his head, Nick shifted on his feet somewhat, glancing around again, then made fierce eye contact with Will.  He glanced away for a moment, but the look Nick was giving him drew his gaze more than it repelled it.

“I just… want you to know, that… I don’t see you any differently.  Than any other guy.” Will internally gave a laugh, but just smiled politely at Nick instead..

“Thank you,” he said with a hum.

“And… I know I don’t know much about this stuff--”   _ Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed _ , Will thought to himself amusedly, but gave the CSI the benefit of the doubt and let him continue.  “--but, you’re part of this community, and…” he trailed off then.

Will gave him a quizzical look then.  This community? The Las Vegas community?  Or… but this guy was straight, right?

Nick took a few moments then, still staring Will right in the face.  His expression was so tender and welcoming that it made Will’s heart skip a beat, and he hoped his cheeks weren’t going red.  “You’re part of this community, and as a queer guy, I feel like I owe it to you, and to every other transgender person I meet, to know more about them.”

Will just stared at him, and felt his mouth drop open a little.  He couldn’t help it. This guy was  _ queer _ ?  This brawny, Southern-accent guy who worked alongside law enforcement wasn’t straight?  He acknowledged that not every queer guy fits into a stereotype, and he’d met plenty of brawny queer men like Nick, but still, it blew him away.  But now it seemed like he waited too long to give a reaction, and Nick was looking a bit nervous, so Will shook his head as if to reassemble his thoughts, and gave a baffled little grin.

“Wow, well, uh, thank you,” he said warmly then, bringing one of his hands up to scratch at his head, still a little dumbfounded, “That’s uh, really good of you… to do.”  And he meant it. It would definitely be good for Nick to know more about this stuff, not only as a fellow queer person, but as someone who worked to bring justice to those who are harmed by others.  And Will knew that many of those people were their own, and even more so  _ his _ own.  He’d known many trans people who’d been harassed or assaulted, including himself, and heard of many who’d been murdered or committed suicide because of who they were and how society treated them.  It broke his heart every time, but now knowing there was somebody on the inside, at least in Las Vegas, who had their backs brought a little solace.

“And,” Nick said, once more bringing Will out of his inner thoughts, “I want to give you my number.  So that you can contact me if you need anything, or have anymore information.” He scribbled his name and number on a corner of one of his papers, and tore it off for Will to take and glance it over.  “That’s my work number, so you can call me anytime.”

Will nodded his head and tucked it into his back pocket.  “Thank you,” he said, and Nick nodded his head before finally leaving their little corner to walk outside with Will by his side.

As they exited the building, there were a few reporters waiting by the front entrance, and, seemingly recognizing Nick, snapped a few photos before he told them that they didn’t have any new information, and not-so-subtly told them to get lost.  It made Will laugh a bit, and they kept moving pretty quick to head to their cars. Once they reached the parking lot and started on their separate ways, Will backtracked and called after Nick again, who turned to look at him over his shoulder.

“I think I already know the answer to this, but, uh,” he began, and Nick walked back over to him to get a better listen.  Will let out a sigh and shoved his hands back into his pockets, “Do you know when it would be safe to head back out to that spot in the desert again?”  He wasn’t sure when he’d have the guts to go back out there, but he had nearly found the perfect spot to paint, and if they found the guy, he’d feel safe heading back out there again.  And Angie had survived after being left out there, so it was a little less harrowing than if she hadn’t.

Laughing softly, Nick crossed his arms over his chest.  “I dunno, man, probably not for a while. We may come across some new evidence at some point, and the police tape is still up out there, but I wouldn’t go out there anytime soon.  At least not until we catch the guy,” he explained, and Will nodded his head in understanding.

After standing there silently for a moment, Will let out a hum and held out one of his hands, which Nick took and shook gently.  “Thank you again,” Will said with a smile, and Nick returned the sentiment before saying goodbye for the night, and they both set off to their cars.

Will drove home quickly that night, his mind racing from finding out that Nick was queer, and that it seemed they no longer had any officers out watching that spot in the desert, but the tape was still there so they could easily find it.

After eating some late dinner, taking a quick shower, and downing a pill to help him sleep, Will laid in bed and came to two conclusions:

One: that Nick Stokes really was very cute.

And two: he was going to head back out to that crime scene this weekend and see if anything jogged his memory.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will heads back out to the desert, coming across some new information to help the police, and Nick begins to come to terms with how he feels about the situation.

Will hurried through that week, barely able to focus on his work, itching to get to the weekend when he had more of an excuse to go out to the desert again.  He got up early on Saturday, scarfed down some scrambled eggs and packed a light bag. He checked to make sure his cell phone was fully charged, triple checked he had his self-defense keychain on his car keys, and, though it felt a little over the top, he stuffed one of his kitchen knives into the bag as well.  It was still pretty recent after they’d found the girls, so he assumed whoever the perpetrator was wouldn’t be hanging around his dump-site quite yet. After snatching a water bottle out of the fridge, he left his apartment like a bat out of Hell.

Thankfully, the drive out to the Calico Basin was clear, and Will raced down the highway until he could see the spot on the side of the road he’d pulled over at.  In the distance, he could see the bright yellow police tape between gaps in the shrubbery dotting the desert landscape. 

Pulling into the same spot he had that day, he did a quick glance around, noting no cars in his vicinity, before getting out to head out closer to the designated area.  It was hot out again, though not quite as hot as it had been the last week or so. As he locked the car, Will did one more glance around and, again, didn’t see anyone, so he continued on his way.

It took longer than he remembered to get to the spot, and as he approached he could see some of the poles the police tape was tied around had fallen over.  It made his stomach drop a bit, thinking that maybe the cops hadn’t been out here the past few days. Apparently, they hadn’t come across any new leads, and with so few witnesses, they couldn’t make any headway on finding the guy responsible.  Will carried forward, though, hoping that maybe seeing the spot again would help him remember something that could help.

He could still see some shoeprints in the dirt, and saw the scuffed up bush Angie had been curled up under.  He could feel a lump rising in his throat at the sight of it all, and he felt himself starting to panic again, heart racing like it had that day when he found both of them.  He felt incredibly lucky for having found Angie when he had. One day -- hell, even a few hours -- later, and she very well could’ve been dead like the other girl. He still didn’t know her name, he thought absently.  

Will stared at the empty desert for a while, standing there, and letting the sun soak into his shoulders.  The desert really was beautiful, but having seen such a sight last week, it reminded him that the desert was a very dangerous place.  Far from any help, he very well could’ve been approached by someone and attacked. He could’ve even simply been bitten by a snake or spider, or sought out by an overly-comfortable coyote.  The animals were more mundane in Will’s eyes, and the added human element made the location all the more menacing. 

He was thinking about how many more bodies, how many more people, could be out here in the desert, abandoned and lost, their souls forever searching for a way home, when a cool breeze perked him up again and he realized he was crying.  Tears stained his face, and he gently wiped them away with his fingertips, before letting out a shaky sigh and turning back to the road to go to the car. He moved quickly, kicking up dust behind him as he stared down at his shoes that were now covered in a fine layer of dirt from his trips out there.  

Even just going back to this place took a lot out of him, it seemed, and he figured he’d sit on the hood of the car for a bit and just watch for anyone coming by.  Will was terrified that he’d see the man who did this come along, but part of him also wanted to confront him. Get angry at him. Scream at him. Do to him what he did to those poor girls, and leave him out in the desert all alone.  Will huffed and gave a little smirk at the thought of such revenge, but opted for just letting the officials take care of business. Besides, he could scream at him in court.

Now, perched on the back hood of his car, Will sipped at his bottle of water with one hand, the other holding white-knuckled onto his keychain.  

And then, he watched.

A few cars drove by, one nice lady even stopping to ask if he was alright or if his car had broken down, and he assured her he was just watching the view.  He kept an eye out for anything suspicious, but everything that came by seemed anything but that. Like his previous visits, there were a few hikers, and this time a few bikers came by, now with the cooler weather, and he waved to each of them with a polite smile and exchanged pleasantries.  

Everyone who came by was friendly and kind, no one seeming anymore strange than the others, and definitely not like they could be a serial killer.  Sure, the guys who’d come flying by on their motorcycles had scared him, but that was just because they were loud, and they couldn’t help that. One thing he did notice, though, was that there were much fewer female hikers than he’d previously noticed.  Granted, he hadn’t been here that long yet, but it made him sad when he only saw groups of guys, or girls with guys, and never girls alone. He’d often met the same two women who would walk together when he sat there, and they always said hello and commented on his drawings.  Not today, though. He didn’t blame them, since police had opened the case up to the public to warn women to be safe where they went. God, Will hoped they could catch this sonofabitch.

After sitting there for almost two hours, the heat alleviated with a few more clouds forming in the sky, he spotted a gold car driving up the road.  As the car approached, it slowed down, but Will just continued to watch out of the corner of his eye as he sipped at the last of his water. The driver pulled up beside him then, and Will saw the passenger window roll down, but only halfway, so he slumped down a bit to get a better look and gave a polite smile.  

“You alright?” the driver asked, his voice quiet enough that Will almost missed it.

“Yeah, I’m okay, thank you, though,” he assured with a small wave of his hand.  The halfway rolled down window had struck something in him, and he noted that the man was a white guy with dark hair, but couldn’t make out much of his face due to the bad angle, and it appeared he was wearing dark sunglasses.  Will fought the urge to give any reaction other than his polite smile.

_ This was the guy.  This is him. It’s gotta be. _

Will could feel his heart racing, and nausea started creeping up on him when he saw the guy pause, and then glance out onto the desert behind him, out to where the police tape was laying haphazardly across the shrubs.

Will just kept his smile plastered on his face, fighting the urge to make any sudden movement to get a better grip on his keys or even reach for the knife.  When the man looked back at him and returned a falsely polite smile, it chilled Will to the bone and made him tense. He sincerely hoped he wasn’t visibly shaking, though the man gave off such an intense aura that Will wouldn’t be surprised if he could smell fear.

“If you say so,” the man drawled out, before rolling the window back up and driving off again.

Will stayed put, watching him closely as he drove away.  He almost forgot to check the one thing that he knew would help the police the most, and flailed for a moment to make sure he watched the back end of the car as he drove off in the direction of town where Will had come from, and didn’t move until the car was just a speck in the distance amongst the scattered buildings on the skyline.

He kicked himself for not paying attention sooner, but he more than recognized the plate the guy had.  His plates had the same plain white with the red scribble of the state across the top, and it was the state Will had called home for most of his life.  And, oddly yet terrifyingly enough, the three letters of the license plate spelled out “KIL” amongst the random numbers Will couldn’t make out soon enough.

His hand shook as he hopped off the hood to get into his car, almost unable to start the ignition, and gave himself a moment to compose himself before tearing back down the road to head home.

 

~~~~~

 

Without thinking, Will raced over to the police station to try and get in touch with CSI Stokes or Detective Brass or anyone else on the case to tell them the new information, but it was too late in the day and all of them had gotten off work a few hours previous, as stated by the receptionist at the lab.

“But I can have them called in, since you have new information,” she said with a warm smile.  She was already picking up the phone at the counter, and Will could tell she wanted to have this guy found as much as everybody else.

Will fought his instinct to say “No, I don’t want to bother them,” because he knew the sooner he got this information out, the better it would be.  And he was afraid the adrenaline rushing through his system would wear off and he’d crash before getting the information to them.

So, Will nodded his head instead.  “That would be great, thank you,” he said, and then stepped away from the counter with a heavy sigh as he sat himself down in one of the chairs in the hallway.  He glanced at a clock up on the wall that read just after noon, absently listening to the receptionist talking to somebody about having the people working on the desert girls case called in.  When she hung up the phone, she glanced over at Will and gave him a smile and a nod to let him know they were on their way, so he relaxed a bit more and slumped back in his seat.

He played the moment over and over again in his brain, trying to remember more of the man’s face behind the window and his glasses.  He wished he’d gotten more of the license plate, but at least he knew it was a California plate and had the three letters memorized. And now he could confirm that the car was gold, and he just hoped it wasn’t a stolen car.  

So immersed in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice when, thirty minutes later, CSI Stokes and Willows came into the lab alongside each other.  CSI Stokes was glancing around, his eyes frantic, and quickly turned to head to Will when they made eye contact.

“You remembered something?” he asked quickly, before Will could even stand up out of the chair.

As Will was about to answer, CSI Willows had a hand on his arm to lead him down the hall to what he assumed was her office, and he spotted Detective Brass down the hall, who hurried to meet them.

“Y-yeah, I did.  I saw the car again,” Will stammered out as they shut the door behind them all as they clambered into the office.

“You’re sure it was the car?” CSI Willows asked with a raise of her brow, and Will nodded his head.

“Almost one-hundred percent sure.  It was the gold car and the guy was a white with dark hair,” he said as he watched her lean against her desk, while CSI Stokes and Brass stood beside her.

“Where did you see the car?” Brass asked, already having his notepad out now with a pen at the ready.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself after being rushed over, Will stared at him.  “Back out there, where the girls were found. I-”

“Wait, you went back out there?” CSI Stokes asked as he took a step towards him, and Will thought back to his question in the hospital parking lot, and knew CSI Stokes was also thinking back to that moment..  He sounded angry, but in the way that Will could tell he was scared that he’d done such a thing.

Still, Will felt guilty, and he sheepishly glanced away with a nod of his head.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, and Will looked between CSI Willows and Detective Brass, who were both staring at him with expressions similar to CSI Stokes.  CSI Stoke’s tone was accusatory, and it made Will shrink in on himself a little bit.

“I wanted to try to jog my memory and see if I saw anything strange I hadn’t noticed before.  And… and this guy drove up again, the same car and everything, and asked why I was sitting there and if I was alright.  It was the same guy, I know it was,” Will rambled off, hoping that any new help he could offer deterred the fact that he truly had put his own life in danger.  He really tried not to think about that, and how the guy could’ve attacked him.

When none of them said anything, other than CSI Stoke’s heavy sigh, he shifted nervously where he stood before adding, “I did get a few digits on his plates though.  And they were California plates- ah, and the car was gold, that dusty glittery kind.”

Brass was already scribbling this down, and the two CSIs were paying attention again.

When prompted for the digits, Will gave Brass the three letters, and apologized for the fact that he hadn’t gotten the whole thing.

“That’s alright,” Brass said as he wrote down the rest of the information, “This will get us a good head start.  You saw him less than an hour ago, correct? Driving towards town?”

Will nodded his head then, taking in a shaky breath.  Before he could say anything more, Brass was heading out the door, exchanging quick words with the two CSIs about how he was going to let a few patrolling officers know to keep an eye out, and that they should see what they could get out of the DMV database with the information they now had, and they both agreed to get right on it.

CSI Willows headed to the door next, but when CSI Stokes stayed put, she gave him a quizzical look and asked, “You coming?”

“I’ll be there in a sec’,” he responded, and just smiled at her until she shut the door behind her as she left, and then he looked sternly at Will.

Will just glanced nervously at him, almost unable to look him in the eye, but he snapped to attention when Nick’s expression softened and he murmured out a small, “Hey…”

“I’m sorry,” Will said before Nick would even get his thought out.

The CSI just smiled then, and it made Will’s stomach flutter a little.

There was a pause as Nick just gazed at Will, before he let out a soft sigh and shook his head.  “Why would you go out there? I told you, you shouldn’t head out there just yet.”

Will gave a little shrug, and he suddenly felt like crying again as the adrenaline began to finally fade, so he stared down at Nick’s shirt rather than his face.

“I just wanted to see what I could find.  I… wanted to see if I could see that guy out there again.”

Will heard Nick let out another sigh through his nose, and watched him shift the weight on his feet and cross his arms, prompting Will to look back up.

A small lump formed in Will’s throat at the look Nick was giving him.  It was pure and utter concern, something he wasn’t expecting from a civil servant.

“That’s too dangerous for you to do on your own,” he said, voice soft.

“I… I just wanted to help,” Will said softly in return, making Nick’s smile grow.

“And thank you for that, but it shouldn’t be worth risking your life for.”

Will knew he was right, but he let out a little sigh of his own.  “It is if it helps catch the bastard so he doesn’t do this to any more women.”

That seemed to catch Nick off guard, and his eyes widened a bit and smile faltered.  They stood there for a while, Will standing his ground on the decision to go back out there, until finally Nick was the one to back down and glance away.

“Well, at least we share that sentiment,” he murmured with a soft laugh, and Will couldn’t help his smile then.  “But seriously, don’t ever do that again.”

Will just nodded his head then, knowing now that he definitely didn’t want to head back out there again anytime soon if the suspect was patrolling the area.  “I promise, I won’t go back out there till he’s found.”

That seemed to suffice for Nick, and he held out his hand to lead Will to the door.  Will leaned gently into the touch Nick placed on his upper arm as he opened the door and walked with him back to the building entrance.  Now that the adrenaline was fading, Will felt himself growing tired, and knew he should head straight home to relax for a while. As if reading his mind, Nick offered him that exact advice, and again told him not to go back out to the desert, and that they would be in contact with him if they found out anymore information they thought Will could help with.

“Thank you,” Will murmured then with a soft smile, and Nick gave a tender smile in return.

“You get home safe, okay?” Nick said softly, and Will nodded his head before heading out the door to his car in the parking lot.

 

~~~~~

 

Nick watched as Will headed out to his car, and stood in the doorway until he could see Will pull out and drive down the road.  He let out a heavy sigh, but startled when a voice behind him said, “Was that the witness from the desert girls case?”

“Jesus, Greg, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Nick groaned, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he listened to Greg’s soft laugh and apology.

“He get anymore information?” he asked, and Nick nodded his head.

“I’ll tell you about it later, yeah?” Nick murmured as he walked alongside his boyfriend through the building.  One of the other conditions of being able to keep working on the same shift was that they couldn’t often work on the same cases together.  Every now and then they got away with it, if it was high-profile and they needed all hands on deck, or they were just a good fit for the case.  But this time Greg was busy with his own handful of smaller cases, and he just popped in from time to time to help out with this one, which he was only able to do because when they hung out after their shift, Nick would bounce ideas off of him and fill him in.

Greg nodded in acknowledgement then and glanced down at the paperwork he held, but looked over at Nick out of the corner of his eye.

“He was pretty cute,” Greg murmured with a small, devious smile.

Damn, Nick really was the dense one here; Greg could pick up on anything.

“Yeah, he’s an attractive guy, so what?” Nick asked defensively, giving Greg a glance that he hoped read as 'drop it'.

Greg just chuckled again and shook his head.  “Y’know, it seems like you’re really emotionally invested in this case.”

“Oh, you’re telling me how I do my job now?” Nick huffed as they walked into the break room so he could get a cup of coffee.

“No, I’m not telling you how to do anything.  Just making an observation,” Greg said as he sat down at the table, leaning back in a chair to cross his arms over his chest, “But does Grissom know you’re being so protective over someone who’s just a witness?”

“He’s not ‘just a witness’, he’s one of the  _ only _ witnesses in this case that can really help us right now, so we gotta keep him close,” Nick said, still defensive, as he poured out his cup of coffee.  He was unable to look at Greg, though, because even though he’d only known Will for a week, he was starting to care immensely for him. And not just because he was their best witness and source of help in this case.  He really had been genuinely worried that Will had done something as reckless as go out to that spot in the desert again. And while he was glad that he’d gotten more information to help lead them to this possible suspect, the fact that this man that he’d come across could likely be the killer sent a chill through his body.  That man very well could’ve also killed Will and left him in the desert.

“Alright,” Greg said, snapping Nick out of his thoughts, and they both got back to work.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will runs into a bit of trouble, and Greg finally gets to meet the famed witness Nick won't stop mentioning.

Will relaxed for the rest of the day, sitting around in some sweatpants and a tank top as he watched TV and worked on some drawings.  When the news came on, they spoke briefly about the case about the desert girls, but it was mostly just further asking people to come forward with any information they had.  They had since found out the identity of the other girl, a Las Vegas local named Jessica, and it brought Will a bit of ease, hoping that it could help them get closer to the guy who’d killed her.  A few accompanying photos flashed across the screen, one of which was of Nick in front of the hospital, with Will in the corner of it, and Will figured it must’ve been one of those reporters Nick had blown off in front of the hospital.

When he’d first talked to Detective Brass, he assured him that when they broke the news to the press, they’d just dub him as an anonymous witness who’d called in the finding, and wouldn’t give out his name.  Will was grateful for that, because he really didn’t want to have to do all sorts of interviews for these news stations, and didn’t want his face and name plastered all over the case. He could understand that the reporters might be all over trying to find out who he was, though.  Thinking of that, the picture made him somewhat uneasy, and he hoped that they’d just assumed he was someone working in the hospital that day, or another CSI or police officer.

As it grew closer to seven o’clock, he felt himself growing hungry and it drew him away from his anxiety about being brought into the spotlight of this case.  Upon looking through his pantry and fridge, however, there was nothing he had to make a very substantial meal. He groaned at the prospect of having to go back out, but he really wasn’t in the mood for just having cereal for dinner.  He didn’t even have any milk. So he trudged over to the door to slip on his hoodie, pocket his wallet, grab a few of his reusable grocery bags, and head out the door with his keys. 

_ At least there won’t be an excessive amount of traffic at this hour _ , he thought to himself as he headed down the stairs of his apartment complex to the parking lot and hopped into his car.  As predicted, it was quiet in the area tonight, and that made Will sigh in relief as he drove the few blocks down to the grocery store.

The market was only open until eight, so he knew he’d have to be quick, but that wouldn’t be a problem.  He could just get what he needed to make some dinner tonight, and come back tomorrow to get the rest of the groceries he had to get, and he made a mental note to write an actual grocery list when he got back home.  

The lot was mostly empty, just a few cars, most the employees’, scattered around.  As he pulled into his spot, he absently noted another car come in behind him and park a few spaces down.

When he entered the store, he said a polite hello to the workers there that night, some of which he recognized from frequenting the market.  He wandered the store for a bit, though made sure to make up his mind quickly so he wasn’t there till closing and could give the workers time to lock up.  He grabbed a few boxes of pasta, some canned tomato sauce, parmesan cheese, two cartons of milk, and some lemonade. He also tossed an onion and bell pepper into his basket, figuring he could make an omelet in the morning with the few eggs he had left at the apartment.

He glanced around for a moment, spotting a few other customers wandering around with their carts, and walked to the single open register.  The clerk greeted him warmly, and Will returned the hello, as he stood at the end of the counter to begin bagging his items as the clerk rung him up.  

“Stay safe,” the clerk said pleasantly as they handed Will his receipt.  

The statement made Will stutter for a moment, but he forced a soft smile and nodded his head.  “You too,” he murmured as he shouldered his two bags and headed for the door. It was a simple pleasantry that, at any other time, Will would have taken as just that, but with all that was going on at the moment, it made stepping outside into the dimly-lit parking lot all the more nerve-wracking.

Even though Will knew he looked more masculine now, after having been on testosterone for nearly four years and getting top surgery a year before that, he still felt that pang of anxiety every time he walked through a dark parking lot, or headed up to his apartment late at night.  After being viewed as a woman for the first twenty-three years of his life, it became instinct to grip his self-defense keychain every time he walked out alone. It wasn’t like he was a big guy either; he still just barely made it past seven inches taller than five feet. He felt himself hurrying as he unlocked his car, shoving the bags on the passenger side seat, and taking long strides to get around to the other side so he could head home.

Just as he was reaching out for the door handle, he felt something hard make contact with his face, and he slammed against the side of his car.  The wind got knocked out of him, and he tried to catch his breath and articulate what had just happened. He saw a pair of dark shoes step closer to him as he slumped against the car, but as he looked up, he felt another blow, this time to the side of his head right above his left ear.

It sent him jolting backwards, stumbling and tripping over his own feet, but before he could fall flat on his ass, a large hand was grabbing at the front of his hoodie and pulling him forward again.

“So you’re the bastard who found my girls out there,” the figure spat out, and Will tried to focus on his face, but his vision was blurry from the, what he assumed were, punches to his head.  It took a moment, but it finally set in who this guy was, and he tried to focus on getting his ears to stop ringing.

Will couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and that seemed to make the man angry, as he slammed Will’s back against the side of his car.  

“I saw your face on the news a few days ago, in the background of some photo at the hospital that bitch Angie is cooped up in,” he hissed out, and as the bleariness in Will’s head began to dissipate, immense fear began to course through his whole body and he immediately felt tears began to form in his eyes.

Will just kept his mouth shut, knowing that if he spoke he would just start sobbing, and rather than make the guy back off, Will thought that would just make him more angry.

The man’s grip didn’t let up on his jacket, and Will flinched when he was jostled slightly as the man laughed.  “And then I saw you out in the desert today, right at that same spot,” he spat.

That made Will finally look up at his attacker’s face, and he immediately recognized the long facial features, with that ghostly pale skin and dark hair.  His blood ran cold, and his legs went completely limp, but the man kept his grip tight enough that Will stayed on his feet.

“You-” Will began, but the man slammed him against the car again.

“You think you can save her?  You think I won’t come after her?  Get the job done next time?” he growled, making Will flinch and curl in on himself.  “I followed you earlier. Saw you run to the cops. Bet you told them you saw me, huh?  They’re crawlin’ all over this town trying to find me,” the man hissed, his tone growing more venomous with each word, “Followed you to your house, waited to see if you’d come out.  Guess it’s just my luck you had to run and get milk.”

Will was now clearly crying, fear completely taking over him as tears streamed down his face and lip trembled.

The man sneered at him.  “Fuckin’ bitch, crying like a baby,” he spat again, and Will just stared at him through his blurred vision.  The man’s look of disgust turned to one of sadistic glee, a toothy grin flashing across his face, making Will tremble even more.  A small sob escaped him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to scream for help. “I should just kill you right now.”

Will’s heart dropped, and he thought he was about to pass out, but before he could even react, he felt the back of his head make contact with his car and send him reeling once more.  He still felt one hand on his chest, gripping tightly onto his jacket. He tried to reach out and defend himself, but his arms flailed uselessly as he was knocked off-kilter by another punch to the side of his face.  

Sharp pain shot through his entire body, and he let out a garbled shout that was cut off by another punch, and another, and another, and then he began to lose count as the pain began radiating through his entire upper body.  One punch landed straight in his gut and he could taste blood on his tongue, which made him whimper as he gripped tightly onto the arm that was holding him pinned against his car, trying to get him to let go, but instead he was struck right against his ear.  

It knocked him completely off his equilibrium, but through the intense ringing in his ears, he heard someone from across the lot shout what he made out as, “Hey, knock it off!”

He felt the hand on his jacket let go, and everything went into slow motion as he was finally able to slump down and fall to his knees.  The pain in his face was intense enough that he didn’t feel the force of his knees and hands making contact with the rough asphalt, and all he could do was sit there and try his hardest not to pass out or vomit.  

He vaguely registered the sound of an engine revving from a few spots down in the parking lot, the guy speeding off, and heard the voices of multiple people making their way towards him.  One of them, an older gentleman, helped him sit up and lean back against his car, while another few people tried to chase after the car, but it was already tearing out of the lot.

Will looked up at the man who helped him sit up, and saw his mouth moving, but couldn’t make out what he was saying at all.  He couldn’t even attempt to try and speak, or even shake his head. He heard the distant sound of police sirens, and he assumed they were approaching even though they grew quieter as his vision began to fade and darkness engulfed him.

 

~~~~~

 

When the two squad cars and ambulance pulled into the lot, sirens blaring, one of the onlookers hurried over to one of the cars to tell them the attacker had driven off down the street, pointing in the direction that he’d sped off.  When they asked for a description of the car, and the witness said it was gold, they all shared a knowing glance. After a quick exchange of words, one of the squad cars tore back off down the street in the direction of the suspect, while the two officers in the other hurried over with the paramedics to assess the situation.

“I think he passed out,” the older man said as he tried to keep Will sitting upright.  One of the paramedics hurried over then, taking the man’s place to get to work on him, while the police officers got the crowd to back away and they could begin to ask questions.

“We have to get him to the hospital, quickly,” one of the paramedics said hurriedly as he tried to measure the severity Will’s wounds, while the other rushed back to the ambulance to grab the gurney.  

Will was still knocked out, but they were able to find a pulse and get him into the ambulance.  After a quick conversation with the police officers there, they rushed to the hospital, siren wailing, while the officers hurried to set a perimeter around the scene and make sure nobody in the crowd left until they were questioned.

It was several minutes later that CSI Sanders arrived to process the scene, at this point not yet aware that it had anything to do with the desert girls case, or that Will was the victim.  

“Hey, Mitch, what happened here?” he asked, eyeing the crowd of seven people waiting in the middle of the grocery store parking lot.

Officer Mitchell let out a sigh as he walked over to give Greg a rundown of the information he had, and led him over to Will’s car where the beating happened.

“All these folks say they didn’t see the fight start, but they managed to chase the guy away.  The poor guy was taken to the hospital just now,” he explained, and Greg nodded in understanding as he looked over the scene in front of him.  

He could see several spots of blood on the pavement, and noted the dropped wallet and keys, and a few scuff marks on the side of the car.  After snapping a few photos, he grabbed for the wallet with a soft sigh. He really wished that he could get a bigger case like Nick and the others, but he was still a CSI Level 1.  At least, he told himself, by taking these smaller cases he was able to give the others more time to work on solving the bigger crimes.

Mitch informed him of the pursuit after the supposed suspect, and Greg hoped they’d find him, or hoped he could maybe get something here or on the victim that could help him out to solve this quickly.  It was his job to solve crimes like this, and he thoroughly enjoyed it, but he enjoyed it even more when it could be over and done with quickly so he could move onto the next.

Upon opening the wallet, however, he furrowed his brow as he did a double take on the photo on the driver’s license.  This guy looked familiar, and the name jumped out at him.

_ Will Roby _ .

“Hey, Mitch, did you see who the victim was?” Greg asked quickly, and Mitch shook his head.

“No, they took him away so quickly I couldn’t get a look at him… Why?”

“I think… this is connected to the desert girls case,” Greg said breathlessly, and Mitch’s face fell.

He set the wallet back down, snapped all the photos he needed, bagged Will’s belongings for evidence, then hurried back to his Denali.  He knew calling wouldn’t be a good idea right now, so opted for racing back to the lab to let Grissom and the team know what had just happened.  As he sped down the road, he felt his stomach tangle in knots as he thought about how upset Nick was going to be.

The two of them had only occasionally spoken about the case together, but Greg could tell that Nick really cared about this guy.  He wasn’t really sure why, but he hadn’t ever spoken to Will, so he couldn’t judge him right now. If they weren’t dating, he’d say that Nick had a bit of a crush on the guy.  But he could admit that even though they are dating, Nick did seem to have a bit of a crush on the guy, no matter how much he tried to deny it. 

Nick was probably in denial about it himself, since he knew he loved Greg, but if he was being honest, Greg wouldn’t really mind if Nick liked another guy.  He felt comfortable enough in their relationship that he trusted Nick in his ability to not stray. He’d be a hypocrite if he said he didn’t have little crushes on other people from time to time.  But he still loved Nick, he knew that, and nobody could ever change that.

What he saw in Nick’s eyes when he talked about Will was definitely at least a bit of puppy love, and he really cared about him.  Even then, Greg didn’t find himself put off by the idea of that, but now wasn’t the time to think about the extent of his comfort with polygamy.

After a shoddy parking job, Greg raced inside with his evidence until he reached Grissom’s office, where the supervisor was reading over a case file. 

When he stumbled in, Grissom jumped a bit as his head snapped up to watch Greg curiously.  “What’s the matter, Greg?”

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Greg walked to the desk and dropped the bag with Will’s wallet in it, which Grissom tentatively opened with a discarded latex glove from his desk.

“My 415 is the guy who’s the main witness on the desert girls case.  Police are pursuing the suspect now,” Greg said, voice somewhat strained, as Grissom’s eyes widened upon seeing the ID in the wallet.

His eyes snapped back up to Greg, his mouth dropped half open.  “Is he alright?”

Greg nodded his head.  “As far as I know, yeah.  They took him to the hospital.  I was going to head there to document his wounds, but I thought I should tell you first.”

Grissom nodded his head, bringing a hand up to rub lightly at his temple.  “Thank you, Greg. Please, go to the hospital and check on him, make sure he’s okay.  Make sure an officer stands guard at his door. If it’s our guy who somehow found out who he is, and attacked him… we have to make sure we catch him.”

With a firm nod of his head, Greg hurried back out the door to head to the hospital, camera and kit at the ready.  He’d have to tell Nick later, or hope Grissom would let the rest of the team know.

He was grateful that the city was so quiet tonight, so he could get to where he needed to be quickly with no bumps.  Even the hospital was quiet, and he was grateful for that as well. He was always happy to know that people were staying safe and healthy.

He was quick to find his way to Will’s hospital room, where the doctors were rushing about to take care of him.  As he peered through the door, even just from the glimpses he caught between scrubs, he could tell the guy’d done a number on him.  Greg managed to grab the attention of one of the doctors, who told him he’d have to wait a while before he could get any evidence off him.  So, he sat in a spare chair outside the door to the room, and waited patiently, focusing on the steady rhythm of the heart monitor.

 

~~~~~

 

It wasn’t long before they were done with Will, having stopped any heavy bleeding and leaving him covered in bandages and asleep in the hospital bed.

Greg stayed quiet when he entered.  He wouldn’t be able to get a verbal statement for at least several hours, the doctor warned him.  Will had been knocked around pretty good, and was suffering from a mild concussion. He was stable, at least, but the medication was going to keep him asleep for a while.

For now, Greg could at least get photos and any trace that could help confirm who the attacker was.  He snapped photos of his face, highlighting the already-forming bruise around his left eye, the bloody bandage across the bridge of his nose (which he’d have to later ask to get a photo of the full wound when the nurse had to change the bandage, he noted), and the other cuts and bruises littered across his face.  

Stuff like this always made his stomach turn.  It was one thing to be shot, but he felt that up close and personal attacks like this were the worst, because it meant somebody wanted to feel the harm they were causing under their fists.

The monitors at the side of the bed beeped steadily, offering Greg further comfort in the fact that Will’s body wasn’t giving up anytime soon.

After a few more photos, gathering scrapings from under his fingernails, and bagging the clothes he had been wearing that the doctor held aside for him, he just watched Will for a moment.  Aside from his battered appearance, Will looked peaceful as he laid in bed, and Greg could tell he was going to make a fine recovery.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up in the hospital, and meets CSI Sanders, who's assigned to his assault case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me updating this after 6 months because i watched an episode of csi and it made me miss my boys: hey
> 
> i really only keep updating on here so i have it in an actual chapter format and not horribly in my google docs as one giant 50+ page document lol

Everything felt foggy, and a dull ache radiated across most of Will’s face.  Opening his eyes hurt. Everything around him seemed so bright. All he could remember was pain, and he had a moment of panic where he thought maybe he died and was in the afterlife.

The jolt in his body sent a few rapid beeps through the heart monitor, though, and that brought him to his senses somewhat.

Slowly, his eyes began to adjust, and he could make out white curtains in front of him, and below that he could see the end of a bed with his feet tucked under the medical-grade sheets.  He felt as though his brain had been tossed around inside his skull, so after processing his surroundings for much longer than he’d care to admit, he finally deduced he was in a hospital bed.

Just a few seconds later - or maybe it was a few minutes, he couldn’t really tell at the moment - a nurse came in, seemingly to check on him, and gave him a big smile.

“Mr. Roby!  Glad to see you’re awake.  I’m going to go grab the doctor,” he said, before hurrying back behind the curtain down the hall.

When he returned, the doctor was in tow, and they set about their work of checking him over while the doctor briefed him on his injuries, how he’d been treated, and what recovery would be like.  Will just sat there, still in a bit of the daze from the pain meds, but now he knew he’d been knocked out for a good twenty hours. The first thing that came to his mind was that he’d need to water his plants as soon as he was able to go home.

The next couple hours were spent doing various checkups on him, getting him to eat some food (which wasn’t that great, but Will could tell his body was glad to have something other than fluids), and changing his bandages.  Thankfully, the doctor told him, his nose wasn’t broken, but he had a pretty bad gash right across the bridge of it that would most likely remain a scar for at least a few years. Will was happy to see that there was only a small amount of blood on the gauze, but his stomach flipped a bit at the idea of having gotten stitches in his face.

At this point, he wasn’t even thinking about how he’d gotten here.  Whenever he did try to think about what happened, he just remembered feeling immense amounts of pain on the sides of his face, but couldn’t actually pinpoint it to a moment in memory.  

It was a strange sensation to him, having suffered something so brutal, but not actually remembering any of it.  He knew that would be normal, especially after having suffered head trauma like the doctor described, but it still freaked him out a little.  It reminded him of the time he got out his wisdom teeth, and after waking up from the anesthesia, he wanted to ask if they’d even started the procedure yet.

By the time they’d left him alone so he could finish his dinner, it was almost seven o’clock in the evening.  He was in the middle of slowly bringing a spoon of lime jell-o to his lips when he heard a light knock on the door.  Perking up, he set down his spoon to see the doctor peeking her head in.

“Mr. Roby, sorry to disturb you, you have some visitors from the police department to talk to you about what happened.”

Will nodded his head slowly then, allowing them entry.  For a split second he feared that maybe it was Nick. He’d been so upset when Will had just gone out without getting hurt, how would he react to knowing Will had been brought to the hospital?

However, his fears were calmed when a young man with messy dirty-blond hair came in with a CSI vest on, offering him a timid, yet sweet smile.  His fears were increased tenfold, though, when Detective Brass walked in behind him.

The detective’s expression was grim at first, and Will almost took it as anger, but there was still a softness in his gaze, clearly relieved that he was alright, and that allowed Will to relax a little.

“Hi, Mr. Roby,” Detective Brass said coolly, and Will gave him a small smile in return.  “This is CSI Greg Sanders, he’s going to need to take a statement from you, and a few more images of your wounds, if possible,” he said, aiming that last part at the doctor, who nodded her head and made gentle work of removing the bandages from Will’s nose, and the few smaller ones from across his cheeks and brow.

Each of them made him wince a little, but he recovered quickly enough to watch CSI Sanders taking out his camera and checking the lens and memory card to snap a few images as the nurse left the room to grab new gauze.

“Ready?” he asked, and only began when Will nodded his head.

He saw Detective Brass taking out his notepad, and expected him to start talking, but the CSI began instead.

“Do you remember what happened to you last night?”  His voice was welcoming, and not in any way intimidating like Detective Brass’ or CSI Stoke’s initially were.  It was higher pitched and casual, which further put Will at ease as he shut his eyes to diminish the flash of the camera behind his eyelids.

“No, not much,” he admitted, trying to keep his head still for the CSI.

“What do you remember?” he pressed, and Will let out a soft sigh.

“I remember…” he began, pausing to try and think about a line of events that he could try to put all the dots back together.  “I remember I needed to go out for something, probably… groceries?” The two other men in the room were silent, and Will didn’t know whether that was comforting or not.  He kept his eyes shut as the camera shutter clicked again. “And… all I remember next is just a blur of pain. But I can’t actually… remember where it happened… I have no memory of the moment, only the pain…”  He trailed off, opening his eyes as he heard the CSI set the camera down on the table beside him with a light  _ thunk _ .

Detective Brass was scribbling down a few notes, and CSI Sanders was shifting on his feet as he grabbed the evidence bags with Will’s personal belongings in them from his kit.  Will felt some initial relief upon seeing them, even if he hadn’t really registered that they’d been missing in the first place, and he continued to stare between the two men.

“Well, uh,” CSI Sanders began slowly, placing the bags on the table next to the camera.  Detective Brass had stopped taking notes at this point, and gave the CSI a nod, as a sort of go-ahead to elaborate on the situation.  “You were attacked in the grocery store parking lot.”

The confirmation that he had gone out to get groceries sent one thought through Will’s mind.  “Shit, I need to make a grocery list,” he groaned as he slumped back against his pillow. While he was laying in the hospital, pain slowly beginning to return to the wounds on his face as his meds started to wear off, going grocery shopping was the last thing he wanted to do.  It didn’t register that he’d said that out loud until the CSI let out a soft laugh, but even when Will felt his face heat with embarrassment, CSI Sanders continued on his recounting of the story without poking fun at him.

“We don’t have any witnesses that saw the fight begin, and unfortunately there were no security cameras in the parking lot, but some patrons at the market chased the attacker away.  They saw the car at least, and told the officers who arrived on scene.” He paused for a moment, seemingly gauging Will’s reaction as he absorbed the information and attempted to remember anything from the event.  When Will didn’t say anything, CSI Sanders continued. “It appears that he attacked you with his fists and nothing else. From what I can tell, he ambushed you when you were trying to get into the front seat. Caught you off guard.”

Will just stared ahead as he took in the information, the gears slowly turning in his bruised head for a few moments, before he looked back at CSI Sanders.  He felt strangely numb now, but all of them reacted slightly to the increased rate of his heart through the beeps of the monitor. Will’s subconscious seemed to remember the moment this all happened, and his body was reacting to it, panicking, but he felt like he was groping through mist trying to pin down a solid memory of this attack.  

“I… don’t remember…” was all he could get out as he stared at CSI Sanders, whose gaze didn’t waver.

“It’s okay,” he said, gently, before clearing his throat as he looked over at Detective Brass.  They exchanged looks that Will couldn’t fully interpret and it made him dizzy.

“As for the man who attacked you,” the detective said, and already Will felt nauseous.  “The police pursued the vehicle witnesses said they saw him flee in.”

Will held his breath.  His ears were ringing and he tried to will them to stop so he could hear the detective.  His heart was racing, pounding in his chest so hard that he thought they’d hear it over the monitor that was beeping away beside him.  His fists clenched around handfuls of the sheets on the bed, and when he clenched his jaw it sent a wave of pain across his face.

Detective Brass looked sadly at him, and Will’s stomach turned before the detective spoke.  “Unfortunately, he’d gotten a good enough head start and they couldn’t locate the vehicle. But we have officers on high alert, keeping an eye out…”

The detective’s words faded out behind the ringing in Will’s ears.  He stared at his mouth, but couldn’t make out any of what he was saying as intense thoughts of panic raced through Will’s mind.  

It didn’t matter that the police were on high alert looking for this guy or his vehicle, all Will could think about was how he was likely to be discharged after one more night in the hospital and that guy would still be out there.  And now, not only was he worried about other women he might hurt, he was terrified that he would find him at the store again, or his home, and attack him.

_ At… my home… _

Suddenly his panic was increased tenfold.  He felt his body begin to tremble, and felt like a hole was going to open up around him and drown him in darkness.  The heart monitor rapidly picked up the pace of its beeping, causing both CSI Sanders and Detective Brass to stop their speaking to stare at him worriedly.  The CSI’s mouth opened as if to ask what was wrong, his brow furrowed, but Will interrupted him.

“I remember,” he began, and the CSI seemed hopeful, but Will was far from it.  “I remember. He knows. Where I live,” Will choked out, fighting off his panic attack as best he could so he wouldn’t pass out or vomit because of it.  Tears welled up in his eyes at the recollection, and his heart sank when he saw the CSI’s face fall into his own panic. “He fuh-followed me. And he… and he said.  He followed me. To the mark… market from there. From my apartment.”

His chest felt tight, and his wounds stung as the salt from his tears and sweat seeped into them.  CSI Sanders seemed to be trying to comfort him, but he was so caught up in his panic that Will didn’t really hear anything he said.  

He didn’t notice Detective Brass lean out the curtain to call for a nurse, but as soon as one entered the room and learned that Will was having a significant panic attack, they got right to work on more pain medication and sedation to calm him down.  

Everything seemed like a numb blur to Will, as he stared frantically at CSI Sanders and continued to mutter, “He knows where I live.  My house. He knows.”

The only thing Will remembered before going under was the CSI saying.  “We’ll protect you. Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.”  Then the medication kicked in, and he fell into a heavy, yet restless, sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick is upset about the recent news of Will getting put in the hospital, but Greg helps to put him at ease.

“What!?  What the hell happened?” 

Greg tensed at the sound of Nick’s voice trailing down the hall from Grissom’s office.  He slowly stepped closer to the door, adjusting the weight of his kit in his hand, and peeked in to see Nick pacing in front of Grissom’s desk while the supervisor pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Listen, Nicky, take a deep breath and calm down-”

“Calm down!?  You’re telling me to calm down?  When our star witness was almost beaten to death?” he snapped, shoulders tense as he stared down at Grissom.

Grissom just watched him, placing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and slowly folding his hands on his desk.  He didn’t say anything, and Greg had seen him use this method before: simply sitting quietly and waiting for Nick to calm down.  Greg knew that whenever Nick got really upset, he’d get this burning fire in his eyes that would make most people take a few steps back, but Grissom knew him too well for it to make him nervous.

It didn’t take long for Nick to take a few deep breaths, the tension leaving his shoulders as his posture slumped.  With the electricity leaving the room, Greg gave a gentle tap on the door with his knuckles.

The two men perked up and turned to look his way, Grissom waving him inside with a small hand motion.

“How is he?” he asked, eyes concerned.

“Fine, for the most part.  He’s going to make a good recovery.  Due to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow morning,” Greg explained as he set his kit down on the corner of the desk.

“Brass told me the bad news,” Grissom said with a grimace.  Greg was really hoping for a good way to approach the topic of this guy knowing where Will lives, for Nick’s sake, but it appeared they’d just have to dive right into it.

Nick glanced between the two of them, curious.  “What bad news?”

Both Greg and Grissom glanced between each other.  Greg silently pleaded with Grissom to explain it instead of him.  He really didn’t want to have to deal with Nick’s anger right now, and hoped that the supervisor would be able to keep Nick’s temper down.

His puppy-dog eyes worked, and Grissom let out a gentle sigh to grab Nick’s full attention.  “Mr. Roby couldn’t remember much of the attack, but he did remember that his attacker followed him to the supermarket from his home.  Therefore, he knows where Mr. Roby lives.” Greg was always impressed by how level Grissom could keep his voice, even when they were all stressed out of their minds and running on fumes of fumes from lack of sleep.  This wasn’t the most high-profile case they’d worked on, but it was snowballing into something close to it, and it took a toll on the entire team.

It seemed to him that the lack of sleep was also helping to keep Nick’s emotions at bay, and he just let out a gasp, like the wind had been knocked out of him, and he wavered a bit where he stood, like he’d been made dizzy from the news.  Greg also stepped forward, placing a cautious hand on Nick’s forearm.

“You okay?” he asked softly.  He knew Nick had taken a liking to this guy, but he was still always surprised by how much he got Nick worked up.  Everyone knew that Nick could get emotional in cases, but this time it seemed especially odd considering Will was only a witness.  Though, he couldn’t really say that anymore, as now he was a victim in the case as well.

Nick didn’t respond, and just stared down at the dark wood of Grissom’s desk as his mind raced.  Grissom spoke up instead.

“We have an officer keeping an eye on him at the hospital, and we’ll have one keeping an eye on his apartment when he’s discharged.  We’re not going to let anything happen to him, Nick,” he assured, giving him a gentle smile.

Again, Nick didn’t verbally respond, but just nodded his head as he took in a few deep breaths.  “I’m going to, uh… to catch up with Catherine. Still got some work to do,” he muttered finally, before turning to head out the door.

Grissom and Greg shared dual looks of concern before Greg gathered up his things and hurried out after him.

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, Nick! Can we talk for a second?” 

Nick let out a heaving sigh as he looked up at Greg from his work, where he had all their evidence and photos from the case strewn out in front of him.  He couldn’t focus on any of it, mind you, since all he could think about now was how they really needed to get this guy into custody. Not only so that no other women were attacked and killed, but so he knew for certain Will was safe.  And one would think that would get him to focus, but it just made him anxious instead.

“I really can’t right now Greg, I need to focus on the case,” Nick grumbled as he shifted his eyes down to a photograph of some shoe treads they’d found at the scene and been unable to rule out.

“You don’t seem to be focusing.”

Nick slowly looked back up, brow furrowed.  “I’m sorry?” he said, a perplexed laugh following his question.

“You’re not focusing on the case,” Greg repeated, “You’re letting your emotions get the best of you.  And don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you getting emotional is a bad thing. You care about people, but sometimes you care too much.  You start to worry and get all worked up, to the point where you can’t keep your mind on track.” 

Nick knew he could get defensive when he was called out on letting his emotions take control of him during a case, and usually the only person he would listen to when he was scolded for it was Grissom.  At the moment, however, he was so worn down from his nerves and running on so little sleep that he didn’t have the energy to dispute what Greg was saying.

“Greg, I…” Nick trailed off on a sigh, staring back down at the table, but his eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular.  The photos laid out in front of him blurred together into a mass of browns and yellows and grays. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just let the silence drag on until Greg spoke again.

“Nick, babe… I’m not asking you to hide your emotions, you just can’t let stuff like this get to you so much that it hinders your ability to work.”

The pet name made Nick smile and he finally looked back up at Greg.  His expression was soft, matching the tone of his voice, and it helped to ease Nick somewhat.  

“I know, Greg, I know… I just… can’t help it this time,” Nick murmured, keeping eye-contact with his boyfriend.

A tender smile spread across Greg’s face, and he hummed thoughtfully.  He paused for a moment, glancing down at all the evidence laid out on the table, eyeing each piece for a few moments, before looking back up at Nick.  “While I know you care about these two women and catching this guy for them, that’s definitely not the big reason why you wanna catch him.”

Nick sighed again, unable to help rolling his eyes.  “Yeah, well this guy also attacked our star witness. He put him in the hospital!” he barked.

Greg let out a sigh then, glancing down at the table, clearly exasperated.  Nick opened his mouth to tell him to knock it off, and just let him get back to work, but Greg interrupted him.  “No, it’s  _ more _ than that.  He’s not just a star witness.”

Nick just stared at him, mouth still half open, but he couldn’t get any words out.  Greg looked up at him, and he held an expression that Nick couldn’t quite place. It was knowing, almost accusatory, but very gentle.  Nick felt his face heat and he glanced away from Greg, looking back down at the photos on the table so he wouldn’t have to look his boyfriend in the eye.  He really loved Greg, so why did he have feelings for another guy? Let alone a guy he’s known for less than a month and only spoken to a handful of times.

He was cute, Nick had admitted to himself, but he couldn’t shake off how protective he was of him.  It had alarmed him in all honesty, especially with how he’d reacted so aggressively when Will said he’d gone back out to the crime scene.  But something inside him was always telling him to make sure Will was safe, out of harm’s way. Nick was never good at hiding his emotions, but after learning that Will was in the hospital after being nearly beaten to death, he felt shattered and shaken.  He just wanted to yell and scream and punch a hole in the wall to release the tension that had built up inside him. It finally seemed to be catching up to him in the form of a concerned boyfriend playing therapist in the evidence room.

Finally, Greg spoke again.

“I’m not upset about it.  I know you like the guy, and that it’s more than just enjoying a conversation with him,” he murmured, and Nick was shocked by Greg’s tame reaction.  While Greg might be into some weird stuff, or at least experimenting with things, he never thought that Nick developing some weird crush on a random guy would be something that could be considered ‘okay’ in their relationship.

“You’re… not upset about it,” Nick echoed back to him, eyebrows raised in mild confusion.

Greg just nodded his head and gave him a tender smile.  “Not upset. I really don’t mind.”

Nick continued to stare at him, the gears slowly turning in his head.  “You’re not worried I’ll stray from you, or… or anything?” Nick was mostly relieved, but part of him was worried that this would turn into a romance drama and Greg was secretly plotting his revenge.

“No, of course not,” Greg said with a laugh and moved to stand beside his boyfriend and drape his arm around his waist, “Seriously, don’t worry about it.  I trust you.”

The gentle touch was comforting to Nick, and he leaned his body against Greg’s as they stood there together in silence for a few moments as the tension eased out of Nick’s body.  

“By the way,” Greg murmured, “I also won’t be upset if Will reciprocates those feelings and you want to act on your desires.”

Nick blinked a few times as he glanced down at his boyfriend, the gears once again slowly turning in his head, but by the time they locked into place and it registered that Greg was saying he was okay with having an open relationship, they were no longer alone in the evidence room.

“Don’t let Ecklie find the two of you like that,” Catherine quipped as she walked in and dropped a manilla folder onto the table beside Nick’s photographs.

Nick and Greg pulled away from each other then, giving soft hello’s to Catherine and Grissom, who followed her close behind.  Grissom eyed them from over his glasses, but his gaze settled on Greg.

“Shouldn’t you be working on your next assignment?”

Greg sighed and dropped his shoulders dejectedly.  “I’m waiting on Hodges for trace,” he offered as an excuse, but Grissom just raised an eyebrow at him.

“There’s always other things you can do to push the case forward, Greg.”

Another sigh.  “Yes, sir,” Greg said quietly, before giving Nick a quick smile and heading out of the evidence room to badger Hodges.

They all watched him go before Catherine asked, “What were the two of you talking about?”

Nick realized then that his mouth was half open and he was still staring at the doorway after Greg.  He quickly cleared his throat and didn’t look either Catherine or Grissom in the eye as he felt his cheeks going red.  “Nothing, just uh… just a pep talk,” he stammered, and he could feel Catherine’s eyes on him, but Grissom spoke before she could prompt him further.

“So, police are still out looking for our mystery guy.  Do we have a name on him yet?” he asked as he glanced over Nick’s spread of evidence.

“We’re getting there,” Catherine chimed in, grabbing up her manilla folder again to take out a few of the sheets of paper.  They were lists of cars fitting the correct description and partial license plate number, each with a corresponding name. “So far we have a lot of possible suspects.  Sara is currently matching names to driver license photos to see if we find any facial description matches.”

“What about Warrick?” Grissom asked as he took a few of the papers and leafed through them.

“He is working with Sara to find any record that drivers with a matching description currently live in or have recently visited Las Vegas or Nevada.”

“What if our guy stole the car?” Nick asked as he eyed the list as well, “Or the car isn’t registered under his name, but he borrowed it from a friend or family member?”

Catherine shrugged.  “We’re looking into that too, but at least it’s a start.  If we come up empty handed, we’ll backtrack, or hope that the police can do their job and catch the guy.”

Nick let out a soft laugh at her quip, and a ghost of a smile appeared on Grissom’s face, but he was quickly back to business.  

“For now, we can all pitch in and help get through these lists quickly.  We have all our evidence here,” he said as he gestured to the spread Nick had made, “We just need to match our guy to it all once we have him in custody.  Unfortunately, we can’t do much more until we actually find him.”

Nick and Catherine both nodded their heads in understanding, and Nick began sorting all the evidence back into their proper piles and boxes before following the others out to get back to work, and pushing what Greg had said to the back corner of his mind.


End file.
